


Hungry Eyes

by seducedbycurls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Chef Harry, Cooking, Crossword Puzzles, Dirty Dancing References, Disabled animals, Falling In Love, Fluff, Food, Harry Styles Smokes, Harry curses alot, Harry has some grays, Harry hates that too, Harry is Italian, Harry is a grumpy chef, Healthy Weight Gain, Italian influence, Louis doesnt like being touched sometimes, Louis doesnt tie his laces, Louis has dimples, Louis is a hair dresser, Louis likes weird food combos, Louis loves the movie, Louis rips his food, Louis takes in cats, M/M, Older Harry, Oral Fixation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content, Swear jar, Tonsillitis, advent calendars, and bags, harry hates it, he'll be fine, in school for something else, laundry mat, louis is in college, petnames, psoriasis, smoking withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 66,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seducedbycurls/pseuds/seducedbycurls
Summary: Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.They meet.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 305
Kudos: 875





	1. Spaghetti aglio e olio.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. What am I doing. I just have impulses that are triggered and I've been listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for days and you should too.
> 
> I say I wont update this soon, cause I have so many more things to update, but who knows. I just write and write, but it's so much easier not to finish. I WILL though. I swear on my life. I just had to get this out. Something was begging me to.
> 
> There is so much going on in this story but it's gunna be really cute. Louis does NOT have an eating disorder. His character is based off of me and I do not have an eating disorder. I do have an odd issue with food. It will be explained in the story but he is NOT starving himself. He is not afraid of food. None of that. He just likes it sometimes. Lmk if you have questions.
> 
> I do NOT speak Italian so bear with me. I am NOT a master chef, but I do know my way around a kitchen.
> 
> I'm sorry I'm posting this (I'm considering back tracking) but I must.  
> Thank you guys for always being great and not hating me for not updating my stories fast enough. 
> 
> The title is taken from the song Hungry Eyes, and is also coincidentally in the movie Dirty Dancing.

“Cazzo, you fucking burned it!” _(Dick/Fuck)_

“I’m sorry, chef.”

“Throw the shit away,” Harry pressed his fingers to his eyes, groaning, “I need a fucking break.”

The restaurant was new and opening in a week. It wasn’t Harry’s first restaurant, but it was his first in America. He’d always wanted to bring his culture and cuisine to different countries. He wanted to learn from them to incorporate their cuisine into his. Italian food at his core, with just a small twist. It was how he had succeeded up until this point. Learn, take, and adjust.

He’d been eyeing the empty spot since he moved into town. It was in the center of a bustling area. It didn’t take long for it to be his. It was spacious, the kitchen was large. It belonged to a stone-fire pizza shop just before, so it was perfect. It was expensive, which meant Harry better make a profit.

“Fucking ridiculous.” He lit a cigarette as soon as he was outside. He’d been smoking American cigarettes since he arrived. It was much easier to find than Italian ones. It was much easier to buy than buying in Italy. They weren’t bad, they weren’t good, but they got rid of his headaches.

The area he chose to live in was beautiful. Michigan wasn’t where he wanted to end up, but he was there. City life was much more his area. He wanted New York, California, Miami. Michigan called him, and Harry came kicking and screaming.

“Hello Sir.”

“Woah, excuse me.” Harry dodged the young man, moving his cigarette to the side.

“Sorry for surprising you.” The man smiled wide, holding up a shoe box. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in adopting a kitten?”

Harry blinked at the man before peering into the box. He raised a brow, “huh.” There were three kittens, all different colors. One of them was meowing obnoxiously high, while the other two tried climbing the box. They looked like newborns.

“Uh, no.”

“Oh.” The man looked inside the box with a frown. “They have shots and, if you get one, I can give you a free bag of food.”

“I’m going to have to pass.” Harry ashed his cigarette, stepping aside, “Have a nice day.”

“If you change your mind,” The man’s voice fell lower, “I’ll be here -maybe a friend wants one.”

Harry nodded, taking a hit, walking back towards his restaurant.

-

“A pastry chef. She burned caramel. Come on.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. It hasn’t been the first time.”

Harry bit his cheek, tapping on Emily’s documents. “Just one more. Dammit.”

Liam, his cousin, smirked, “Cugino, non puoi essere gentile’ solo perche siamo in America.” _(Cousin, you can’t just be kind because we’re in America.)_

“I need workers. I can’t just pull them from Italy.”

“Maybe you should have never left Italy.”

Harry rolled his eyes, rocking back in his chair. “I want to be known around the world, not just in Italy. America is where things begin.”

“I understand. Do you not recall that I am here as well?” Liam stood, putting on his wedding ring, “I just think you should not change your working style. They understand what kind of environment this is. Many went to Italy for school.”

“You are right.” He rubbed his eye, “tell la famiglia I send love.” _(the family)_

“Of course. Angelina seems very pleased with her new school. She has a new friend every day.”

Harry smiled warmly, “patatina.” _(little potato)_ He paused, “would you like a cat?”

“Un gatto?” _(Cat?)_

“Gattino. There was a man outside, giving them away. Maybe for Angelina.” _(Kitten.)_

“I do not need anything else in my home. Leah has filled it plenty.” Liam raised his hands, “I am at a standstill every time I walk around. With the things from Italy that they will not stop sending, to every time she goes out.” Liam huffed, “wasting my hard-earned money on trinkets.”

Harry grinned, “you dragged her over here. Let her enjoy herself.”

“Ah, I will say the same to you when you find a partner.” Liam snorted, “I will make sure to send plenty of gifts. Make sure the family does the same.” He grabbed his chef’s jacket off the rack, going back to kiss Harry’s forehead. “A week.”

“Yes.” Harry leaned back in the chair, rocking from side to side, “a week.”

“Everything will turn out fine, as it usually does.”

Harry smiled, closing his eyes when Liam kissed his forehead once more. “Ti amo tantissimo.” _(I love you plenty/a lot)_

“Lo di più.” _(I love you more)_

Harry sat up once Liam was gone, putting Emily’s folder back into his cabinet. The day was over, it was best if he just went home.

He left his jacket hanging behind the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He searched his pockets for his box of cigarettes, lighting one as soon as he locked the doors. He stepped back to look at the restaurant.

It was beautiful, maybe his most beautiful. He put in more money than he should have to make it shine. If you can make it in America, you can make it anywhere. And, if that saying was true, Harry had miles and miles to go.

He blew out smoke, fixing his bag before walking. He took the train to this area, something he was very used to. Harry rushed a little when he noticed the time. He didn’t want to wait another hour for the next train.

He stomped out his cigarette before reaching the platform.

“Excuse me, sir.”

Harry looked down, tilting his head at the box of kittens, “uh, hello -again.”

The man smiled at him, “oh, we’ve met before.” The guy’s face scrunched up, “you didn’t want a kitten, right?”

“No thank you.” Harry turned back to the station, checking to see if the train was coming.

“Did I offer you free food?”

“Huh?”

“Did I offer you a free bag of food with the kitten?”

Harry nodded slowly, “yes, you did. No, I am not interested.”

Louis sighed, looking down, “do you know anyone who would be?”

“You asked me that too. I asked my cousin, he said no. I don’t know anyone else.” Harry moved slightly.

Americans, he learned, loved to talk to strangers -a lot.

“Are you allergic?”

The restaurant owner sighed loudly, “I am not. I just don’t need a cat right now.”

“Kitten.”

“Kitten, cat, dog, I don’t need one.” Harry looked at his phone, irritated that the train still hadn’t arrived. The restaurant owner glanced beside him when the man finally gave up, turning towards the station.

The man’s laces weren’t tied, and they hadn’t been tied earlier which was weird. He was pretty short -pretty. He had dimples in both cheeks, just like Harry. They showed a lot now, while he had his lips pursed tight. The man was skinny with dark bags under his eyes, but it didn’t make him look bad. Tired maybe, but still attractive. He would be a lot more attractive on the other side of the track without a box of loud meowing cats.

“Have you ever had a cat?”

Harry swallowed, craving another cigarette. He kept his face forward. “Yes.”

“Really? When?”

“When I was a child.”

“Hm,” the man nodded. “Where are you from? You have an accent.”

“Italy.”

“Oh wow, that’s really pretty.” The man smiled, looking back into the box. “What are you doing in Michigan?”

“I just opened up a restaurant.” Harry dug into his pocket as the train arrived. He gave the man his business card. “Have a nice day.”

“Harry Styles,” The man read. He smiled, waving, “Louis.” Harry turned around once he was inside the crowded train. “My name is Louis. Nice meeting you, Harry!”

Harry shook his head when the doors closed, looking for a seat.

-

“Three Caprese salads, truffle risotto.” Harry read off the food quickly, pleased when each dish hit the counter when it was supposed to. He smacked the metal counter, “out!”

He grabbed the next ticket, “vegetable antipasto, Pasta e Fagioli -antipasto now!”

“Yes chef!”

Harry huffed once the plate was down, he smacked the counter again, “out!”

“Harry,” one of the waiters tapped on him.

“Busy -Caprese salad, cup of Cannellini soup -another Caprese Salad! What do you want?”

“There is a customer asking for you.”

Harry groaned, “Liam -expedite!”

“Yes chef!”

Harry put a few more pieces of bread on plates before rolling up his sleeves. He straightened out his jacket, making sure it wasn’t too dirty before following the waiter out.

“What happened?”

“He isn’t upset. I think he just liked his food a lot.”

Harry appreciated when people wanted to compliment the chef, but not when the kitchen was so busy. But it was his first day opening, with no complaints so far, so he accepted it.

Harry couldn’t stop his face expression when he saw that it was the kitten man from last week. He wanted to question it but then Louis started talking.

“Hi Harry.” He smiled, “I didn’t know this was your place. I’ve seen them work on it for some time now.”

Harry’s eyes twitched, “I -thank you.” He fixed his jacket, “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised.”

Louis shrugged, “it’s fine.” He pointed down at his food, “I got one thing so I could support your business.” The man frowned, mumbling, “everything’s really expensive.”

Harry had so many orders that had to go out. The kitchen was exploding with food and here he was, confused, talking to this cat-guy. “Did you like it?”

“Uh,” Louis shrugged, “not really, but that doesn’t matter.”

Harry shook off the confusion and crossed his arms, slightly insulted. “You didn’t like it?”

Louis blushed, looking down, “I don’t like most food.”

The owner pressed his lips together, “then -wait.” He sat in the chair across from Louis, shooing the waiter. “You don’t like most food?”

“Eh, it’s a thing. I can’t explain it but that’s okay.” Louis shrugged, “I’ll take it home, maybe I’ll like it tomorrow.”

Harry bit his lip, “are you trying to insult me?”

“What? No!” Louis grabbed a piece of bread, ripping it up, “I swear. I just -honestly, doesn’t matter. The place is beautiful. Thank you for inviting me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, you gave me your card.” Louis looked up at the hanging fairy-lights. “I have ones like these in my room.”

Harry folded his hands under his chin, “why do you not like the salad? Explain it.”

Louis scratched at his wrist, shrugging, “I don’t, not like it. I do. It’s good but I just -I don’t know. I don’t want to eat it.”

Harry watched Louis scratch at his wrist until it was red. “What do you like?”

Louis finally stopped, rubbing it against his jeans. “I don’t know. I like a lot of things.” He smiled, “I like your salad, really. Just not in the mood for it.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“I have to eat, or I’ll starve.”

“You don’t have food at home?”

“I do. I have some rice from yesterday.” Louis groaned as he started scratching his wrist again, “I ran out of hot sauce.”

Harry closed his eyes briefly, very confused -very tired. “Are you okay?”

Louis stopped, frowning, “sorry.” He showed his wrist, “I have psoriasis. It’s not contagious, I swear.”

“Hm.”

The man blushed, “just gets really itchy.”

“Why do you need hot sauce to make rice?”

“Oh, I usually eat basmati rice and hot sauce. It’s really good.”

The chef stood up quickly, “do you have any allergies?”

“Uh no -but I also don’t have enough money. I’m fine.”

“Do you eat meat? Fish?”

“Uh, yeah. But really-”

“Stay right here.” Harry grabbed his salad, taking it away even while Louis called for him to come back. He tossed the food in the trash, dumping the plate into the sink.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” Harry went to work, happy that he was ignored. He turned the heat on the stove on high, pouring a good amount of olive oil into the pan. He quickly reached over the counter, throwing pre-cut garlic into the pan. “Jason.” Harry stirred the garlic quickly, “bring me some chilis.”

“Yes chef.”

Harry removed the garlic from the heat just before it started to brown. He went to the pot of boiling pasta, taking one out to taste it. “Whose is this?” He quickly took it off the heat, “it’s about done! Come on!”

“Yes chef. Sorry chef.”

Harry took some pasta from the batch, along with a ladle of pasta water. This was not the way he normally made pasta, but it would do.

Harry added the pan back to the heat, shaking it. “Thank you, Jason.”

“You’re welcome, chef.”

Harry chopped the small chilis into thin slices, adding it to the oil and garlic. He cooked it for about a minute, removing it from the heat. The chef ran to the fridge, taking the anchovy paste from it, adding it to the pan. He added the pasta with a little of the pasta water once the anchovy paste dissolved. Harry tossed it in the sauce, adding a pinch of salt and pepper before plating it.

The restaurant owner wiped his hands on a hanging towel, leaving the kitchen immediately. He walked straight to Louis’ table, setting the plate in front of him before sitting. Harry put his hands under his chin, waiting, “try that.”

Louis looked from his plate to Harry, “this is so pretty.”

“I have to get back to work. Try it.”

The man smiled slightly, “okay.” He took his fork, twirling the pasta in it. “Did you just make this?”

“Yes.”

Louis nodded, impressed, “wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to.” Harry watched every second until the pasta disappeared past his mouth. Louis chewed, covering his mouth, “wow.”

“Good?”

“Amazing.” Louis laughed, “this is really good.” He twirled more on his fork, “I don’t even like garlic.”

“And you came to an Italian restaurant.”

“To help your business.” Louis drank his water, going for another bite, “maybe needs some cheese.”

“It’s spaghetti aglio e olio.”

“Oh, I don’t-”

“It’s spaghetti with garlic and oil. It normally doesn’t get cheese.”

“And the red things?”

“Chili peppers.”

“That’s all it is? Wow, I like this.”

Harry’s jaw clenched, “enjoy.” He stood up, “don’t worry about payment.”

“Oh! No, I can pay, I just -I can pay.”

“You said you couldn’t.”

“I can’t, but I can. I shouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry.” Harry pushed his chair in. “Just enjoy. Thank you for coming.”

He took the opportunity to go around to other tables, asking how the food was. Introducing himself as the owner. If he kept glancing at Louis’ table to see if he finished his food or not wasn’t important. If he overheard Louis asking for a to-go box for both the pasta and salad –oh well.


	2. Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much dialogue.
> 
> Again, I dont speak Italian but I'm doing my very best. :)

“Have you eaten?”

“No mamma.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing, “not yet.”

“Ay, Harry, please,” she snorted, “you work in a restaurant. Come on.”

Harry smiled into the receiver, missing his mother dearly. Knowing that, if she were in front of him, he’d have food in a minute.

“If I was there, you would never skip a meal.”

“Mamma, I am going to make something once I go to the casa.” _(home)_

“You work in a restaurant, Harry! Puoi fare il cibo ora!” _(you can make food now!)_

“If I eat my product all the time, I will not have food to serve.”

“Sheesh,” Gabriella, his mother, huffed. “E tuo cugino? Come sta Liam?” _(And your cousin? How is Liam?)_

“He is good. Angelina and Leah are doing good too. Happy.”

“Yes, yes, I spoke to them.”

Harry made a face, shaking his head. He never understood why his mother asked how Liam was when she called Liam first. He also knew his mom was a little sneaky. She always called Liam and Leah first, asking them how he was doing before asking him herself. She knew her son well. Harry could be living on the streets and he would lie to her just to keep her heart at bay.

“Alright mamma. I have to go. I’m going to miss my train.” Harry stood quickly, gathering his things when he noticed the time. He held the phone to his ear, listening to his mother’s loving nagging. He nodded, rolling his eyes when she told him to ‘please fucking eat per l'amor del cielo’. _(for God’s sake)_

Harry let her send ten kisses before reminding her that he had to go again.

“Amo, mamma. Ciao.” _(Love you, mamma. Bye)_

Harry walked quickly, fumbling to light his cigarette, and put on his bag. He held the door open for a couple before stepping onto the platform. The chef sighed, happy to see that there were a lot of people still waiting for the same train.

“Oh, Harry, hi.”

Harry looked around, turning in a circle to face the cat man. Louis.

Louis smiled brightly, box in hand, “how are you?”

Harry blew his smoke over his shoulder before responding. “Fine. Yourself?”

“I’m good. On my way home.” Louis shrugged, rubbing his eye with his arm. “I have finally given away the cats. All I have is one left until the next batch.” Harry investigated the box, squinting at the medium sized cat that just didn’t look right. He also noticed Louis’ untied laces -again.

“She is deaf and missing a leg,” Louis whispered, practically answering Harry’s thought-question.

Harry nodded slowly, “what happened?”

Louis shrugged, “I don’t know. I just found her.”

The chef took another hit, looking out for the train. He licked his lips, “do you do this for a living or something?”

“Uh, no. I’m a hairdresser. I just can’t say no to a cat in need.”

“No one wanted her?”

Louis frowned, “people only like pretty cats.”

“Why not give her to a shelter?” Harry scooted over to an ash area, putting out his cigarette.

“They’ll end up killing her. She’s pretty old.” Louis followed behind Harry into the train. It was the last train, so it wasn’t too full. Louis sat in one of the seats, looking up at Harry who stood. “Want to sit?”

“No, I’ll sit once I’m home.”

“Kay.”

It grew quiet between them, then Louis spoke.

“How’s the restaurant going?”

“Great. Busy. I almost missed the train because of how busy it was.” Harry shrugged, “people like it so far.”

“You don’t seem happy about it.”

“I try not to get my hopes up too soon. I have two other restaurants in Italy.”

Louis smirked, “your accent came out a lot when you said Italy.”

Harry shrugged, “born and raised.”

“Well, I’m glad your restaurant is doing well.” Louis shifted slightly when the train rocked. “I’ll try to come by sometime again.”

“Did you ever finish the pasta?”

“The what?”

Harry didn’t want to ask but, now that he was thinking about it, the annoyance came flooding back. “The pasta I made you. Did you ever finish it?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Harry almost walked away. He didn’t know anything about Louis, but he could spot a liar. “You ate all of it?”

Louis looked at the sleeping cat, “yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked up, “I don’t like garlic.”

“So why did you say you liked it?”

“I felt bad. Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“…sorry.” Louis groaned, “sorry -ugh.” He turned slightly away from Harry. “You made it just for me and I didn’t want to say I didn’t like it.”

“What was wrong with it?”

The man shrugged, “just -it was fine. Just-”

“Just?”

Louis stared at the doors that opened, sighing, “just tasted weird.”

Harry looked out the window, staring at the houses lit up down below. “What is it that you like?”

Louis stroked the cat in the box, “I like rice a lot.”

“Do you like risotto?”

“Uh, I don’t.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“No.”

“So how do you know you won’t like it?”

Louis made a face, dimples dipping into his cheeks, “I don’t like trying new things. Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“Sorry -fuck. Fuck,” Louis double cursed. “There goes another dollar.”

“Huh?”

“For my swear jar at home. I’m trying to stop.”

Harry looked back out the window, nodding absently. “Okay.” His eyes went down to Louis using his foot to scratch his calf. “Your shoes are untied.”

Louis nodded, not even looking down, “I don’t really tie them.”

“Why not?”

The man smiled, cheek dimpling, “I don’t know.”

Harry swallowed, finding his face a little warm by Louis’ genuine smile and soft voice. He sniffled, “what stop is yours?”

“Troy. Yours?”

“Troy too. I leave my car there.”

“Do you live in Troy?”

Harry adjusted the bag on his shoulder, “no. I live in Bloomfield.”

Louis whistled softly, “That’s expensive.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes playfully. “Why did you come here again? From _Italy_?”

Harry smirked at Louis copying his accent when he said ‘Italy’. “I have two restaurants in _Italy_. And I wanted to open my first here.”

“In Michigan? Not New York or Florida?”

“It wasn’t my plan A, but I felt a connection to it. It’s nice here. I’m used to city life, but I don’t hate it.”

“Are you here alone?”

“My cousin, his wife and daughter came too.”

“Do you all live together?”

Harry wanted to stop talking, reminding himself that he was giving out a lot of information to a stranger that didn’t tie his laces.

“No. I have my own home.”

“Like an apartment?”

“It is a house.”

“So, you plan on living her for a while then.” Louis smiled, “that’s nice. I’ve been to Bloomfield maybe once. It’s quiet, lots of old people.” Louis looked at the cat in the box, “how are you doing, girl?”

“I thought you said she was deaf.”

“So I shouldn’t talk to her? I shouldn’t talk to deaf people because they’re deaf?” Louis’ lips pursed into a smile at Harry’s silence. “Where in Italy are you from? Venice?”

“Not everyone is from Venice, you know.” Harry finally took a seat beside Louis, glancing at the cat. “Positano.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Most people only know Venice and Rome.”

“Sorry.” Louis’ shoulder bounced against his own when the train came to a slow speed. “How long have you been a chef?”

“About fifteen years.”

“Oh wow.” Louis turned to face him, “how old are you?”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“Wow, you look younger.” Louis smiled, “I guess your greys give you away a little.”

Harry touched his hair, “it’s genetic, I think.”

“Or you’re very stressed.”

“I guess.”

“Well, if you ever want it dyed -or braided, relaxed, straightened, curled. Whatever.”

“I don’t need that but thank you.” Harry put his bag on the floor, between his knees. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” Louis shook his head, “no greys.”

The chef smirked, sitting back, “I can see.”

“What’s Italy like? Is it like the movies? Full of love and food.”

“Hm,” Harry pressed his lips together, thinking. “yes and no. I have been to many parts of it. They are all very similar; full of food, families and tourists -a lot of wine. It is beautiful. Sometimes it shocks me despite how many times I have seen it. But I think the ‘love’ aspect is exaggerated for movies. People believe all we eat is spaghetti, pizza and wine.”

“Do you eat spaghetti, pizza, and wine?”

“Well, yes.”

Louis laughed, “so it is an accurate stereotype?”

“Spaghetti is a kind of pasta. I eat all kinds of pasta. I rarely eat pizza.” The chef smiled down at Louis, “I do drink a lot of wine.”

Louis grinned, “not accurate but close.”

“Very.”

“Are there a lot of people?”

“Yes, lots.”

“I would like to travel there one day.”

“Where have you traveled?”

Louis scratched his calf, holding the box with one hand, “I have never been out of Michigan. Wasn’t the richest kid.”

“Maybe you should explore the United States first then.”

“Yeah.” Louis looked up, “our stop is coming.” He yawned, “I’m so glad I’m off tomorrow.” He stood, wobbling, “do you work tomorrow?”

“Everyday.”

“Maybe I’ll come by. Still have to find a place for her.”

“Animals aren’t allowed.”

Louis rolled his eyes, smiling, “obviously.” He waved at Harry once they were off the train, “nice talking to you. I’ll see you tomorrow -probably.”

-

Disappointment wasn’t the right word.

Harry had fresh pizza dough chilling in the fridge, waiting for Louis to come in. It was closing time and they weren’t allowing any other patrons in.

“Oi, Harry.”

“Hm?” Harry stopped counting cash, looking at his cousin. “Cosa?” _(What?)_

“There is a boy here asking for you.”

“A boy -Louis?” Harry stood up, grabbing his keys off the table.

“Louis?” Liam stepped outside so Harry could lock his office. “Who is ‘Louis’?”

“È un uomo che ho incontrato.” _(He is a man I met)_

“Where?”

“He was the one who offered me the cat.” Harry walked quickly to the front doors, putting a hand on his waiter’s shoulder. “Thank you, Craig.” Harry opened the door, “hi.”

“Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“It’s fine. We close earlier on Monday.”

“Yeah,” Louis pointed his key at the sign, “I saw. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t want to come.”

Harry licked his lips, “did you get rid of the cat?”

“Don’t say ‘rid’. There was nothing to rid myself of.” Louis folded his arms, “but no, I still have her. I’m just going to keep her.”

Harry looked back at the few guests still eating. “Come in.”

“You’re closed.”

“It’s okay,” Harry smirked, “I know the owner.”

Louis’ lips tilted up into a grin, walking inside when Harry opened the door for him. He looked around, “this place is really, really beautiful. Who designed it?”

“I did. The restaurants I have in Italy are very similar. I don’t think they’re as beautiful.”

Louis licked his lips, ignoring the staff that stared at him. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Positive. I’ll be making your food so it’s fine.” Harry brought him to a table, the same table he sat at last time.

“I have money this time. I got paid today.”

Harry smiled, “it’s fine.” He pulled a lighter from his pocket, lighting the freshly blown out candle. “I’m going to make you something that I think you’re going to like.”

Louis smiled wide, “thank you.”

“I’ll be right back.” Harry walked away from him, walking down two steps to the kitchen.

“Who is that?”

“Louis, the man that offered me that cat. I told you.”

Liam squinted at him, “are you dating him?”

Harry set the chilled dough on the counter, looking at his cousin. “No. I barely know him.”

“And you are making him pizza? We are closed.”

“He came late.”

“Pausa.” _(Pause)_ Liam sat on a wooden box, “everyone is cleaning, and you are making pizza for a stranger you barely know. “Perché?” _(Why?)_

“Because I said I would.” Harry spread out the pizza dough in a misshapen circle, pressing it on the semolina underneath. He went back to the fridge, grabbing a small container of tomato sauce and sliced mozzarella.

“I thought you were making tomato soup.” Liam stood, “can you give me a real reason why you’re making this boy pizza? A stranger?”

“He’s cute.” Harry shrugged, topping the sauce with the mozzarella. “I have this feeling he isn’t going to like the basil.”

“Harry, per favore, give me something.” _(Please)_

“We took the train home together yesterday and he’s cute. That’s all I have, Liam.” Harry walked the pizza to the still-hot brick oven. He slid it inside, frowning, “dammit. Should have left it on.”

“Possiamo parlare ora?” _(Can we talk now?)_

Harry kissed his forehead, “no. We can talk later.” He quickly rinsed his hands, going back into the dining area. He smiled at some people leaving, thanking them for coming before sitting in front of Louis. “We don’t have any more free bread.”

Louis put his phone away, smiling, “That’s okay.” He rubbed his eye, “what are you making?”

“Pizza.”

The man laughed, “such a stereotype?”

Harry bit his lip, “I guess.”

Louis sat back in his chair, “I really like your restaurant. I took some photos to show my neighbors -they’re my friends. I don’t know why I call them my neighbors.”

“Do you live next to them?”

“Two apartments down.”

“Then.” The chef folded his hands in his lap, “you like cats and you are a hairdresser. That’s all?”

Louis smiled shyly, glancing down at the candle, “I go to school.”

“For hairdressing?”

“No.” He sighed, “I’m going to school to be a stenographer.”

Harry’s brow flew up, “what is that?”

“You know,” Louis rolled his eyes, like if he spoke the story often. “The person you see that sits next to the judge. They have a little typewriter and they type things really fast?”

“Oh,” Harry couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice. “Really?”

“Ye- Hello.”

Harry almost jumped at his cousin’s presence. “Hello.” Liam smiled warmly, “welcome to Delizioso.” _(Delicious)_

“Louis, this is my cousin, Liam. Liam, Louis.”

“Hello.”

“Hello and here.” Liam set down a sliced personal pizza. “It does not take that long to bake.” He dipped his head, eyeing his younger cousin. “Buon appetito.” _(Enjoy meal/food. Good appetite.)_

“Grazie.” _(Thank you)_

“Uh, thank you.” Louis dipped his head back awkwardly, watching Liam leave. “Is he angry?”

“No, he’s fine.” Harry motioned to the pizza, “well?”

Louis clapped softly, “I love pizza. Thank you so much.” He squealed softly, picking up a hot slice. The man ripped it in half and Harry watched in amusement, but then Louis ripped that piece in half, and then again. He stared curiously at the mess of red now on Louis’ fingers.

“What are you doing, Louis?”

Louis stopped before putting the smashed piece to his lips, “what? I’m trying it.”

“Why did you break the pizza?”

“I don’t -know.”

Harry looked up at the hanging lights warm above them. “Dio mio. Who taught you to eat food?” _(My God)_

Louis stuck the piece in his mouth, choosing not to answer. He hummed, “mm.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“No,” Louis licked his thumb, “this is really good.”

Harry didn’t say anything while Louis ate, sitting back to watch him instead. There was a quote; ‘the greatest sound to a chef is silence because that means you are too busy eating.’ And Louis was silent for a while.

The pizza was sliced in fours and Louis was now on his fourth, “I love it and I’m not lying.”

“It normally gets basil on top, but I had a feeling I should leave it out.”

“I don’t like basil.”

“Is it like risotto? You don’t know what it is, but you dislike it?”

“No. I know basil. I don’t like it.”

“Do you like pesto?”

Louis nodded quickly, “yeah, it’s good.”

“Pesto is made from basil.”

“Hm,” Louis ripped up the last piece like he’d done the others. “Doesn’t taste like it.”

“Keep telling me about what you’re studying.”

“Oh, right.” Louis sat up, chewing, “I have four more months of school to get my associates and then I have to get a license and so forth.”

“Why did you pick that? Why not something with hair?”

“I did hair once I graduated high school and it paid well enough that I was able to move and get my own place. I kept doing hair, but I knew that I always wanted to go to school for something.” He wiped his hands and mouth. “I didn’t know what, but I type pretty fast so why not. I like doing hair but I’m tired of it.”

“Just because you type fast?”

“Yep.”

“What else do you like?”

Louis smiled, “I love cats.”

“You have cats?”

“I have five -six. Sheela. She’s the old one you met.”

“You have five cats?”

“Six.”

“In an apartment? Dio.”

“What does that mean? _Dio_?”

“It means God. Why do you have so many?”

“They needed homes.”

“It didn’t have to be your home.”

Louis puckered his lips, “it had to be someone’s.” He took out his phone, “want to see them?”

“Eh, sure.” Louis smiled, unlocking his phone.

“Here, look.” He flipped through a few photos, naming every cat. Each of them odd, just like Sheela.

“Are they all-?”

“They each have a disability except one. I take in disabled cats. I mean, I take in all cats but mostly disabled ones.”

“Why?”

“Because they need just as much love but are unable to get it as easily. I live alone. I have enough room for them and myself.”

“Interesting.”

“I’m pretty interesting.”

“Are you?”

Louis smiled softly, batting his long lashes, “I think so.”

-

“What the fuck are you doing?” Harry took the pot off the burner, slamming it on the counter. “It’s burnt already! You can’t smell it?”

Georgia frowned, “yes chef.”

“Then what in the fuck are you trying to do -everyone, come here!” Harry waited, infuriated, for everyone to gather. “Orders going out wrong, low energy, no fucking hustle! What is wrong with everyone!” A few; ‘sorry chef’ went around the room. He turned his attention back to Georgia, “do you know how to make a fucking roux?”

“Yes chef.”

“Then don’t burn it next time!”

“Yes chef.”

“Jesus Christ.” Harry turned around, leaving the kitchen with a pat on the back from his cousin. “Get ready for dinner! Let’s go!” He jogged down the steps by the back door, taking out a cigarette. He pressed his forehead against the cool brick wall, trying not to crush the stick between his fingers.

They just finished their first largest lunch rush since they opened and suddenly everyone forgot how to work. Harry would have gotten spoons and knives thrown at him if he was in Italy. It was annoying. Harry was annoyed and he needed a cigarette before he started throwing spoons and knives.

The owner went around the building to the front, cursing silently when he noticed he hadn’t taken off his chef’s jacket. He held the cigarette between his lips, unbuttoning the coat.

“Harry!”

The chef’s head shot up, squinting at Louis picking up a box. He sighed softly, not really wanting to talk to anyone.

“Hey.” Louis smiled, “how are you?” He looked at the restaurant, “done with work?”

“No, just taking a break.”

Louis nodded, “that’s great. And you, you’re okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Harry licked his lips, “I’m fine. You?”

“I’m great, thank you.” He set the box down and Harry wasn’t surprised to see two kittens inside. These looked normal, but they were also sleeping so he couldn’t tell. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Just,” Harry hit the stick, listening to the burn over the people walking by. “A little stressed.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Louis nodded, “okay.” He looked around, “do you want me to stand with you?”

Harry took a deep breath, dropping his cigarette to the floor before stepping on it. “you don’t have to. I have to go back anyway.”

“I thought you were on a break?”

“Dinner is going to start soon.”

“Hm.” He squatted, picking up one of the kittens from the box. He held it up to Harry, “hold him.”

“No thank you.”

“Trust me, it’ll make you feel better.”

Harry wanted to ask Louis to fuck off, but he took the small creature. He looked down when Louis picked up his crushed cigarette butt. “What are you doing?”

“Were you actually going to leave it here?” The man walked to the garbage can outside the restaurant.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Louis smiled, “well, feel any better?”

“No.” He held up the cat, “what’s wrong with this one?”

“Nothing,” Louis laughed. “Not all the cats I help are disabled. I just try to help them first because they need it.” He touched the kitten’s head, scratching it with his finger, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Are you trying to make me take this cat?”

“Maybe,” Louis grinned. “His eyes are green like yours.”

“I don’t need a cat.”

“Usually when people are stressed an animal helps.”

“I work a lot. I can’t.”

“I work and I go to school.”

“Are you sure about that? You’re always out here. When do you work?”

“I go to school at six in the morning and go to work at nine in the morning. Then I come here and try to find cats a home. Is that okay?”

“I wasn’t trying to offend.”

“I’m not offended.” Louis took the kitten, “since it isn’t helping.”

“It helped,” Harry folded his arms, trying to hide his smile at Louis’ mischievous grin. “I feel better, but I don’t think it was the kitten.”

Louis pursed his pink lips, “I wonder what it could have been.” He picked up his box, “you’d better go back to work.”

“Yeah.” Harry licked his lips, “animals aren’t allowed but I can give you some lunch.”

“Harry,” Louis laughed, soft and long. “You’re going to run out of food if you keep feeding me.”

Harry licked his lips, pushing aside the conversation with his mom. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind running out of food?” Louis smiled and Harry blinked twice when the sun pulled itself from the clouds, shinning off Louis’ eyes. It almost looked fake. “It’s okay. I have food at home.”

“I want to make you food.”

The silence loitered with the breeze. Louis looked thoughtful, smile small. He was always smiling, big or small, it was like a permanent facial expression. His bags were really bad, deep and dark but only complemented the bright blue of his eyes. His dimples were just as permanent, keeping in time with his smiles. Harry’s dimples never showed that much. He had a young face, clean and soft looking. He was small, not just short, but small in body. Skinny but with puffy cheeks. Harry wondered if he was heavier before or if his cheeks never lost their baby fat.

“What if I don’t like your food?”

Harry was taken back by the question. No one hated his food -but Louis hadn’t liked his pasta.

“I think I’ve learned your palate a bit better. I can make something you’ll like.”

“Oh? And what is my _palate_ like?”

“A child’s.”

Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry found himself staring too long at his lips. He even licked his own lips and found Louis’ eyes watching with the same energy.

“So I’ve been told.” The man fixed the box in his arms, “I’ll go home and drop off the kittens, then I’ll drive here for dinner? Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll have something ready for you.”

“Will I have free bread this time?”

“I’ll make it fresh.”

Louis smiled with teeth, dimples sinking deeper than usual. Genuine. He was traveling on the train in Harry’s mind, passing by ‘cute’ and stopping at ‘beautiful’.

Un capolavoro. _(A masterpiece)_

“Okay, Harry. Sounds good.” Louis stepped back, “can it be pizza again?”

“You don’t like trying new things.”

“I don’t.”

“Pizza and something else.”

Louis almost pouted. “What else?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Fine.”

Harry walked back to his restaurant calmer than how he’d left. His coat smelled like smoke which meant he had to change it.

He removed the jacket, washing his hands twice before walking into the large kitchen.

It was spotless and everyone was doing something. It was satisfying to look at.

He took a deep breath, walking to Georgia who whisked a little faster as he approached.

“Let me try it.”

It was a cheese sauce.

“Yes chef.” Georgia quickly grabbed a spoon, dipping it into the sauce for Harry to try.

Harry rolled the sauce around his tongue, “it’s very good. Add a little more white pepper.”

“Yes chef.”

He nodded, ignoring her sigh of relief and small smile. The owner walked to his cousin’s station, watching him cut the raviolis. “Come va?” _(How are you/how’s it going?)_

“Sto bene. Come stai?” _(I'm fine. How are you?)_

Harry leaned on the prep table, watching the pastry roller cut through the dough. “Save me the scraps.”

“Don’t we always save the scraps?” Liam put the extra pasta to the side. “How much?”

“Enough for one.”

“For one boy?”

Harry bit his cheek, “he really has my attention.”

“Do you have his?”

“Non lo so.” _(I don’t know.)_ Harry stood up straight, “but I want to.”

Liam chuckled, “out of all the people in Italy, in all your travels, you pick a stranger?”

“Isn’t everyone a stranger, Liam?”

“I guess.” Liam grabbed the sheet, sliding it on the pastry cart. He went back to cutting, “what’s special about him?”

“Nothing, and I like that.”

“Dio.” _(God_.) His cousin smiled, “such a simple man with such high taste. You are a walking contraddizione.” _(Contradiction)_

“Oh well.” He pointed at the ravioli being cut, “keep the cutter straighter.”

“Vaffanculo.” _(Fuck off.)_

_-_

“I told you I had food for you.” Harry placed the steaming bread on the table.

Louis paused whatever was on his phone, “well I feel bad when the person keeps coming by asking what I want.”

“Tell him to get me next time.”

Louis rolled his eyes, wiggling at the smell of bread. “I love bread.”

“And rice.”

“An even match.” He removed the bread cloth, “what kind of bread is this?”

“Bruschetta. It sometimes has tomatoes or meat on top but I wanted to play it safe.”

“I like tomatoes -smells good.” Louis picked up a piece, setting it on his small plate. “Are you going to eat with me?”

“No.”

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for watching me eat.”

Harry smirked, “I don’t.” He took a piece, “I’ll have some then.”

“Thank you.” Louis looked at his bread again, “is this butter on it?”

“Olive oil. It’s an antipasto.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s an appetizer pretty much.” Harry took a bite, “Delicious.”

Louis took a bite as well, humming, “it is good.” He took another bite, “it tastes like something else.” Louis finished his piece, going for another, “I like this.” He finished off that piece and went for another.

“You aren’t going to have room for your food if you keep eating the bread.”

“Then why bring a whole basket -hey!” Louis lowered his voice, scowling at Harry. “Where are you going?”

“I’m bringing you wine and your actual meal.”

“Can I have one more?”

“It has garlic.”

Louis’ mouth fell open, “no way.”

“I’ll be back with your meal.”

-

Harry set a small bowl of pasta in front of Louis and a personal sized pizza as well.

Louis stared hard at the pasta, “this would have gone well with the bread.”

“You shouldn’t eat bread with your food. There is plenty of bread with the pizza anyway.” Harry poured Louis a glass of red wine. “This wine is from Sicily.”

“I don’t really -I can’t tell the difference between wine.”

“Well,” Harry poured himself a small glass as well. “First you want to look at your wine. See what you have.”

Louis looked into his cup, “it’s red. I know that.”

Harry smiled, “tilt it and hold it up to the light.” He waited for Louis to do so. “This can tell you a lot about the wine.”

“What does it say?”

“Can you see through it?”

“Mhm.”

“This is a good wine, it’s dark. You don’t want cloudy wine. It is also important to let it breathe.”

“I always thought that was for movies. You really have to let it breathe?”

“It’s better to do because you allow it to oxidize. It allows you to taste more flavors. Most people don’t care because they can’t tell the difference anyway.”

“Like me.” Louis covered his mouth laughing, “this is fun.”

Harry pressed his lips together, smiling, “next, apart of the look, we’re going to swirl the wine. You’re looking for wine legs, gambe di vino.”

“gam-be vino.”

_“Di vino.”_

_“Di vino.”_ Louis swirled his glass again and again, “gambe di vino. -Is it supposed to be the little streaks?”

“Yes, very good. How can you tell?”

“Cause they look like little legs, more like rain drops.”

“They are also called wine tears.”

“What am I look for?”

“Many people think that if you see the legs, the wine is better. That is not true. The legs simply tell you the alcohol content.”

“Is it a lot?”

“Yes.”

“Got it.”

“Next, you want to smell the wine.”

Louis made a face at Harry, “don’t put your nose in it.”

“You have to. Go on.”

Louis looked around before doing the same. He took a deep breath, coughing, “it’s okay.”

Harry chuckled, “next is tasting.”

Louis took a sip, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “dry.”

“No,” Harry took another sip, “it’s very sweet.”

“I don’t really know. I just said it cause I know people say it.” Louis looked at his food, “eat now?”

“You want to locate next but go ahead.” The owner sat back, watching Louis dig into the pasta first. He paid close attention to Louis’ eyes and cheeks. They spoke for their owner.

“What is this?” Louis moved it around, waiting for Harry’s answer.

“It’s called malfatti.”

“What does that mean?”

“Poorly made. It’s pasta scraps.”

“I love it.” Louis smiled wide, “It’s like what I eat at home but better.”

Harry watched him eat with soft eyes, something tickling his chest. The man’s table manners could use work. He was messy and seemed to forget he had a knife. Harry couldn’t understand why he needed to rip the pasta anyway. It was already ripped. It was actually really terrible having to watch Louis tear at his food like an animal but Harry didn’t want to stop watching.

He may have spoke too soon when he told Louis that he didn’t have a thing for watching him eat. Harry found that sipping wine and watching Louis could be something he got used to.

Louis went in for a slice of pizza as well, “tell me more about yourself.”

“Like?”

“Like when you learned English.”

In favor of screaming at Louis for ripping his pizza, Harry spoke; “I was lucky to have money as a child. My father traveled for business and my mother and I came along. I took English in school which most kids do not. It’s almost unheard of.”

“To know in English?”

“Yes. I learned British English first, then American.”

“You still have a little accent, especially when you say _Italy_.”

Harry swallowed, picking up his glass. God did he want to kiss this boy. Kiss deeper, sweeter, dimples into his cheeks if it was even possible. Kiss his deep bags away but Harry might miss them.

There had to be something. Whether it was the tenderness when he spoke or the calm he carried; Harry wanted it.

It didn’t help when Louis made jokes. It only stoked the fire in Harry’s stomach.

“Well, some things never change.”

“What else.”

Harry told Louis about his schooling; about how awful it was. Louis agreed that all schools are the same -awful. He spoke about his mother, the love of his life. He spoke of Liam, his best friend, and of their time as children. Harry talked about traveling to different parts of the world.

“Have you been to North Carolina?”

Harry nodded, “I have.”

“Lucky!” Louis had finished both meals and it surprised Harry. “I really want to go there.”

“What is in North Carolina?”

For maybe the second time, Louis’ eyes lit up. Harry considered getting dimmer hanging lights.

“Lake Lure.”

Harry put his wine down, “and what’s there?”

“The stairs from Dirty Dancing. A lot of the movie really.”

Harry had to sit up, very confused. “The what?”

“Have you ever seen Dirty Dancing?”

“A long time ago.”

“I love it.” Louis grinned, “it’s my favorite movie ever. The stairs scene, where she’s dancing by herself, was filmed there.”

“I see.” Harry nodded to himself, “why do you like it so much?”

“What! The soundtrack is the best and it is the only romance movie I can watch without wanting to throw up. It’s so funny!”

“I don’t think it was that funny?”

“You don’t remember it enough. Your old brain won’t let you.”

Harry choked on his wine, “excuse me.”

“It’s okay.” Louis picked up his own glass, finishing it off. “We should watch it together some time. My neighbors refuse to watch it with me anymore.”

“Your friends?”

“Yeah.” Louis stretched, yawning, “that was so good.”

“Thank you.”

“What should I say after I finish?”

“In Italian?”

“Mhm.”

“Just thank you is fine.”

“In _Italian_.”

“Grazie.”

“Grazie Harry.”

The chef groaned softly, annoyed by how much he smiled with Louis around.

“Prego.”

“You’re welcome?”

“Yes.”

Louis hummed, “I liked this.” He looked around, “it’s comfortable here. Feels safe, you know.” Louis put one foot under his butt, “I feel like when I go outside, I won’t be in Michigan anymore.”

“That’s good. You should always feel like you are somewhere else while enjoying a meal.” Harry looked up at the waiter that tapped on him. “Hm?”

“Sorry. You asked David to tell you when the timer went off.”

“Damn, I’ll be right there.” Harry looked at his watch. Time had flown.

“You have to go, and I would like to pay.”

“No.” Harry shook his head, waving the waiter away. The man took Louis’ plates. “Thank you, Jess.” He stood, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“So am I.” Louis stood, “will you ever let me pay for my food? You’re going to spoil me.”

“That’s fine.”

Louis’ cheeks grew a pink tint. Maybe from the wine.

“That you spoil me?”

Harry nodded, “yeah. Is it?”

Louis looked away; blush now more prominent. It trailed down his neck and up to his ears. “I guess.” He pushed his chair in, “do you have a day off one day?”

“I work every day, for now anyway.”

“Oh, okay.” Louis folded his arms, awkward. “Kay…”

“Uh, my cousin can run the kitchen. He knows how so maybe; you can come over or we can -whatever you like.”

“I would like to see where you live. You hate cats and I have six.”

“I don’t hate them.”

“Then you want one?”

“No.”

Louis giggled, “when can we hang out then?”

“Thursday?”

“I have school on Friday morning. Friday?”

“We serve brunch on the weekends.”

“So, maybe another time.”

“No,” Harry almost grabbed him. “Friday is fine. They’ll be okay. Friday night.”

“Okay,” Louis rocked side to side, “can I have your number, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Harry found himself blushing. “May I have yours?”

“Mhm.” Louis’ smile could blind. “In Italian?”

“Sì.”

“Sì.”


	3. Risotto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you haven't seen Dirty Dancing, I would watch it. It's a cute movie.  
> I added the playlist for my story from my Spotify if you want to listen  
> Enjoy and please remember that I don't speak Italian. Thank you :)

**Hungry Eyes playlist:[here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5tkHswR7HA4xy35T5r0xzf?si=D34QEOwjQOGv4eTfzICgNw)**

Harry was more nervous than he should be. He had his new restaurant and Louis to think about. His head hurt and he needed to buy more cigarettes. The dinner rush kicked his ass, his back was sore from bending to organize plates and hand out food.

Harry was also extremely proud of his team and opened two bottles of champagne to celebrate them. Only a few bumps here and there but no one to blame. Harry knew very well how kitchens worked; how little things went wrong that were no one’s fault.

He rubbed his shoulder, sitting on a crate in the corner while everyone moved around him. He smiled tiredly at everyone finishing off their champagne to get back to work. He gave them hell and could only hope it made them better chefs.

“How are you feeling, chef?”

Harry smiled at Frankie, nodding, “very good.”

Harry really needed a third pastry chef. He’d been writing up more desserts, wanting to change a few to fit the demographic. A lot more people ordered dessert than he thought. Some people only came to have dessert and stayed for the ambiance.

Frankie was one of his Chef’s de Partie (line cook/station chef), specifically for pastry (pâtissier). Harry had three station chef’s and, if business kept picking up, he would have to hire a few more. Which meant Harry had to do another round of hiring. He needed straight forward people who didn’t panic when the kitchen became too hot.

If Harry was busy, Liam was in charge, if both were busy then it was Frankie. He was born in New York and knew Italian food well. The man traveled to Italy with the change in his pocket just to practice at the finest schools with no pay. He was a good man, did his best to stay out of trouble.

Harry hired people who had records, hired people who needed jobs. He hired young people that had potential but not enough discipline. Harry was good at showing discipline. He liked the mix of older and younger. The young taught the old and the old taught the young. Everyone knew something someone else didn’t.

“How are you feeling, Frankie?”

“Real good,” Frankie grinned, removing his apron, “everyone pulled their own weight for once.”

Harry chuckled, patting the man on his back as he exited the kitchen. They still had an hour before they closed but Harry had to leave early because he told Louis eight, not ten.

Now it was time to tell Liam.

He stood up with grimace, spine not agreeing with him. The head chef rubbed his shoulder, waiting for Liam to explain something to a junior chef before interrupting.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Liam smiled, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Tired, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry had been up since five in the morning, he was exhausted. “Devo partire presto.” _(I have to leave early.)_

“Oh? Perché?” Liam smirked, “you never leave early. _(Why?)_

Harry tried not to roll his eyes. His cousin had been a little shit since they were young. “Ho un primo appuntamento con Louis.” _(I have a first date with Louis)_ Harry did roll his eyes when Liam nodded smugly. “Can you watch the kitchen and close up or not?”

“Yes, I can.” Liam folded his arms, “where are you going?”

“My house.”

“So soon? He could be a murderer.”

“Good thing he is not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know enough.” Harry touched his pockets, making sure he had his keys, “make sure you set the alarm.”

“I will.”

“And do the money deposit. Put it in the safe and I will deposit it tomorrow.”

“I know this restaurant is different than in Italy, but I think I will manage.” He nudged his cousin, “divertiti.” _(have fun)_

“Zitto, idiot.” _(Shut up)._ Harry turned back around, “fuck, I might miss brunch.”

Liam gasped, “miss brunch!” He covered his mouth, “how could you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Harry, it’s brunch, and tonight is dinner. The next day will be lunch. I ran one of your restaurants by myself. I think I can handle brunch.” Liam grinned, “you are not the only one that can scream.”

“They will hate both of us.”

“They can quit.”

Harry rubbed his face, “look, just -call me if anything.”

“Will you be sliding to third base so soon?”

“Liam,” Harry almost punched him, “shut up for once. I never said that. I just don’t want to rush the night because I have to wake up at five.” He removed his jacket, “don’t forget to feed the yeast -all of them.”

“I do it every fucking night. Dio.” (God.) Liam waved him off, “fuck off. Get out of my kitchen.”

“Idiota.” _(idiot.)_

Harry groaned when he had to turned around again, “and please cut the fucking cakes before you freeze them.”

“Harry, if you don’t leave right now, I will call my zia. Va fangool! Get out!” _(Aunt) (Fuck off!)_

Harry left as quickly as he could, pretending that things didn’t need to get done. Suddenly he saw messes where there weren’t any before. The floor needed scrubbing; the food wasn’t going out fast enough -the fucking cakes needed to be cut before going in the freezer.

He wanted to cover his eyes, going to his office to grab his bag. He said quick goodbyes and goodnight's to his team. It felt weird to leave before everyone else. Harry usually left so late he almost missed his train.

He turned his phone on, cursing at himself for ever turning it off. Louis probably tried calling him all day.

Harry hadn’t dated in a long time.

“Fucking shit, hurry up,” he mumbled, staring at the loading screen. He walked quickly to the station, head down. He lit his cigarette as soon as his feet touched the platform then called Louis.

“Come on, come on.”

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Harry put the phone between his ear and shoulder, “hey, Louis.”

Louis laughed into the receiver and Harry’s heart beat a little faster. “Hi Harry. I thought you were ignoring me.”

“Sorry,” He bit his lip, licking them. “I don’t know why I turned my fucking phone off.”

“It’s okay, work is work.” Louis was probably smiling. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yes,” Harry stomped on his cigarette when the announcer said the train was coming. He went back to throw it away just as Louis had. He rubbed his hands together, itching for another cigarette. His nerves were killing him. “I’m on the train now. I’ll be home within the next thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, just send me your address and I’ll drive over there.”

“I was going to cook.”

“I assumed. I did eat just in case.”

“In case what?”

“What if I don’t like it? You told me not to lie to you anymore.”

Harry sighed, holding onto the handrail, “you’ll like it. I’ll make sure you will.”

Louis was quiet then he hummed, “I hope so.”

The chef found his palms sweaty, “how was your day?”

“Good. I went to school and then I went to work just to work on one client.” Louis yawned, “I took a nap, played with my kitties. Did some homework before the weekend. It was a good day. How was yours?”

Harry cleared his throat, “good. Lunch was pretty dead, but dinner picked up. Everything went really well.”

“That’s great, Harry. Maybe I’ll go by for brunch, if you’re going to be there. How long is it until?”

“Nine to three. I’ll be there, just not at five a.m.”

“Five a.m.! My god, you go so early! And you stay there all day?”

“Yeah, I’m used to it.”

“I thought I didn’t get sleep. Jesus. Did you go in at five today?”

“Every day.”

“But you don’t open until eleven.”

“Prep. I have a lot of prep work to do. My prep team comes in at seven, I just get there earlier.”

“Maybe -do you want to do this another day?”

Harry felt his stomach fall, “no. I don’t. I want to see you today.”

“Okay.” Louis breathed, “I just feel bad.”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Sorry -fuck me -fuck, fuck! Three dollars!” Harry laughed quietly, adjusting his satchel. “I don’t have cash on me.”

“I’ll give you three dollars for your jar.”

Louis made a sound Harry hadn’t heard before, “you remembered my jar?”

“Yes, I did.” Harry smiled, getting off the train. He went down the stairs quickly, “I remember a lot of things.”

“That’s sweet.”

Harry unlocked his car, groaning inwardly. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to shower, okay? Nine?”

“Eight-thirty?”

“Sounds better.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Harry hung up, throwing his things into the passenger seat. He opened his cigarettes counting only three. He rolled down the windows, backing up, pressing Liam’s contact in his phone.

When his cousin didn’t answer, he called the store.

“Good evening, this is Delizioso. How may I help you?”

“Sam, it’s Harry.”

“Oh, you left?” Sam laughed, “what’s up?”

“Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Yep, one sec -how many? Okay, just give me a second. -I have it.”

“Tell Liam to make me crepe batter and leave it chilling in the fridge.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Yes sir, have a good night.”

Harry liked Sam. She was a nice girl and a great hostess.

He drove to his house as calmly as he could, thinking over what Louis would hate or love.

-

“Hey, everything okay?”

“I think I’m here? Is it white and red?”

“Yeah, I’ll come outside.” Harry removed his waist-apron, setting it on the counter. He unlocked his door, waving at the car that hesitated to park.

“Your house is so cute.” Louis pulled in next to his car, hanging up.

Harry waited anxiously at the door, unsure if it was appropriate to hug Louis -give him a kiss on the cheek. He swallowed when Louis stepped out, dressed a little different than usual. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and knee length jean shorts. His shoes were tied but barely. They would probably come undone by the time he reached the front of his door.

One already had.

“Hi,” Louis smiled. He looked around, “this is a beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

The short man kept looking around, “sorry. I haven’t been here a lot. It’s nicer than I remembered.” Harry stepped aside to welcome him in. “Oh, thank you.” Louis looked down, “can I remove my shoes?”

“Of course. My house is your house.”

“Is it?” Louis smirked, kicking of his sneakers. The scuffed-up shoes looked out of place beside Harry’s clean work shoes and going-out shoes. Out of place but not wrong. Harry kept staring at the shoes, realizing the reality of their size difference. Louis’ shoes were really small.

“What size shoe are you?”

Louis turned around, grinning like mad, “hm?”

“Nothing.” Harry followed him, “why are you smiling like that?”

“Your house is what I want my house to look like.” Louis put his hand on his sides, “it’s so clean and warm. You have orange hues and damn, I love it.” He pointed at the painting on the wall, “that is beautiful.”

“That is Positano. It’s-”

“Where you were born.” Harry liked Louis running to his couch to get a closer look more than he should have. Louis was on his knees, fingers barley touching the painting. His lips were parted and the orange glow from the lamp made shadows across his face. It was a sight. “There are so many houses.”

“That is Amalfi Coast.”

“I love this. It’s so big.” Louis stepped off the couch, “your home feels like your restaurant.”

Harry smiled, “and you like my restaurant.”

“I might like your home more.”

Harry held out his hand, “I’ll show you the kitchen.” Louis took his hand without hesitation. Harry just hoped he wasn’t squeezing Louis’ small hand too hard. “This is the dining area, and through there is the kitchen.” He tried releasing Louis’ hand so the man could explore but Louis didn’t let him.

Louis looked up at Harry, “can I?”

“Of course.”

He smiled softly, letting Harry walk him around the large table.

“Are you religious?” Louis asked pointing at the painting of the Last Supper.

“No, and my mother hates me for it. This painting is for her.”

Louis giggled, “are Italians religious?”

“Are Americans?”

Louis blushed red but was still grinning, “yeah, some of them.”

Harry could kiss him, kiss those bright pink lips. God, Louis’ mouth did something to him. Those pretty little lips were always smiling. Behind them was the pinkest tongue. Harry wanted to kiss Louis’ soft cheeks and small nose. He wanted to cup Louis’ face in his large hands and smooth out those smile lines. Harry wanted to kiss his tiny ears and fix his messy hair. Why was Louis a hairdresser? Harry didn’t know. Didn’t know if he was good, didn’t care.

“As are some Italians.”

Louis leaned on him, pushing Harry towards the kitchen, “it smells really good.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Mm, I’m not.” Louis shoved him a little harder, “I ate but I’m still hungry.”

“What did you eat?”

“Cereal.”

“For dinner?” Harry scoffed, pulling his hand away to take olives out of the fridge. “Do you want to sit at the island or the table?”

“Table is too fancy.” Louis tried climbing onto the bar stool.

“You can lower it.”

“Let me do it.” He finally sat on top, proudly kicking his feet. “What did you make?”

“Just the broth for the risotto. I’m going to make risotto now.”

“Hm, did you mention that before?”

“Yes.”

“It is -rice?”

“A kind of rice. I wanted to make it while you were here. It takes a while and I cannot leave it alone.”

“Oh, we can talk while it cooks!”

“Exactly.”

Louis eyes dragged over the kitchen, following Harry. “Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment.”

“I doubt that.” Harry set the bottle of wine down, “Rosé.”

Louis smiled, “I like rosé.”

“I know.”

The hairdresser stuck out his tongue, “how would you know?”

“I told you, I’m learning your palette.”

“Hmph, we’ll see.”

Harry smiled bashfully, grabbing a corkscrew from the drawer. “As our antipasto I have olives and prosciutto with grissini.”

“Grissini? What is that?”

“Thin breadsticks.”

“I love bread.”

“Do you like olives?”

“I don’t hate them.” Louis pouted, “don’t want to eat one right now though.”

“You don’t have to.” Harry removed the cork, throwing it into a large vase on the ground.

“You keep your corks?”

“Yeah, it’s just decoration.” Harry grabbed two glasses, pouring an equal amount in each.

“Shouldn’t we let it breathe?”

“Rosé doesn’t need to breathe.”

“Oh.”

The chef held up his glass, “to our health.”

“No,” Louis puckered. “In Italian.”

Harry smirked, “salute.”

“Salute!” Louis clinked their glasses together. “Like salute?”

“Yes, almost the same. You can also say ‘cin-cin’.”

“Oh, I like that one more!”

“I knew you would.”

“I think you know too much about me.” Louis took a sip, “more than I’ve told you.”

“Your expressions say a lot.” Harry went to the fridge to remove the grissini rolled in prosciutto. “Please, eat. I’m going to start the risotto.”

Louis picked up a stick, “can I take a picture of this? You made it so fancy.”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “Not very fancy.”

“It’s still fancy.”

“Well, you should always present your food in a beautiful way. You are eating it.”

Louis put his phone down after taking a photo, “then I need to adapt a different mentally.”

“I think we all do at some point.”

Louis ate the meat and bread, “so salty -so good.” He sipped his rosé, “this is what I like. This is good.”

Harry laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Louis watched him quietly while he worked. Harry was used to being watched, he taught many classes. He taught talkative people and quiet people alike. Harry cut up the garlic and onions, tossing the onions into the pan with oil first. He tried hiding the garlic best as he could, not wanting Louis to judge the dish before he tried it. He shook the pan, sautéing the onions before adding the garlic.

“What is risotto?”

Harry tossed in the garlic when Louis reached for another breadstick. “It is a kind of rice eaten in Italy.”

“What makes it different from Basmati rice?”

“That’s the rice you eat?”

“Mhm!”

“Arborio is used for risotto. It can also be used for sushi. It’s very creamy and rich. It’s a short grain rice.”

“Mm, I like creamy stuff.”

“I think you will like this a lot.”

“You know I will,” Louis teased.

Harry snorted, pouring in cooking wine. He tossed the rice into the onion, garlic, and wine mixture. Once coated, he poured in some broth, stirring it. He made the broth as soon as he came home and strained it just before Louis called him.

“Why do you have to stir it so much?”

“Do you rinse your rice?”

“I think I’m supposed to?”

“Well, you should. With this rice, you would not. The starch in it is what gives risotto its creaminess. It also gives the risotto its fluffiness -the air that is created from me stirring it so much. If I don’t agitate the rice, it will stick to the bottom and burn.”

“It’s delicate.”

“Stop eating all the bread sticks, you’re going to be too full. Risotto is a heavy meal.”

Louis frowned but pushed the serving dish away. “Why serve me so much if I can’t even eat it?”

“I want you to eat this and if you are still hungry, you can have the prosciutto and bread.” Harry added another ladle of broth, constantly stirring. “It is a labor of love.”

“Your arm must be tired.”

“I’ve made it enough that I don’t feel it.” Harry took a quick sip of his rosé. “At my restaurants in Italy I used to make very large pans of it. That was tiring. After stirring it, I had to toss it.”

“Toss it?”

“Yes. The pan was very heavy. I grabbed one handle and shook it back and forth. It folded in on itself with butter -burned like hell.”

“Did you have to do it like that?”

“I make very good risotto for a reason.”

“A labor of love.” Louis stared at Harry’s hands until he added the last of the broth. “Will you do it now?”

“I like my counter top enough not to. The bottom of the pan will scratch.” Harry laughed, “my mother still has scratches on her stove from last Christmas.”

Louis smiled warmly, “That’s cute.”

“Did you bring the movie?” Louis looked like he flinched. Harry kept stirring, “are you okay?”

“Did I bring Dirty Dancing?”

“Yes? Didn’t you want to watch it?”

“Yeah,” Louis’ cheeks were flushed. “I just thought…”

“What?”

Louis grabbed a bread stick. He slid off the stool, walking around the island. He lifted it to Harry’s mouth, “open.”

Harry did, pleased when the prosciutto practically melted. He was more than happy eating from Louis’ hand, but he was confused. “Did you not want to watch it?”

“Harry,” Louis huffed, feeding Harry an olive. “I thought you wanted to have sex.”

Years of making risotto and Harry had never burned it, but he was about to. “Excuse me?”

“I have the movie, I just -we don’t know each other, and I think you’re great, but I thought -I don’t know.” Louis looked at him with the biggest, bluest eyes, “do you want to have sex?”

Harry considered his answer for a long time. “Sex could be a onetime thing and I don’t want that.”

Louis blinked at him, looking away. He stepped behind Harry, pressing his face into Harry’s sore spine while the chef kept stirring. Harry could swear he felt a kiss on his back.

“I don’t want to have sex now either.”

“I swear I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“What were you thinking about?”

The risotto was done so Harry moved it off the heat. “Eating and watching a movie.” Louis did press a kiss to his back this time, moving away quickly.

Louis picked up his glass, frowning, “did I ruin the mood?”

“Not at all.” The chef added Parmesan to the risotto, folding it over and over.

“I feel like I ruined the mood.”

“You didn’t,” Harry shook his head. “Tell me what else you do besides school and work -and cats.”

“Crossword puzzles,” Louis pouted. Fuck, if he could get one kiss by the end of the night, Harry would be fine. “I like to buy things online.”

“Like?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

Harry’s brows went up, “are you buying bad things, Louis?”

Louis huffed, crossing his arms cutely, “no!”

Harry chuckled, “I won’t judge what you’re buying.” He went to his cabinet, grabbing two bowls. “Nor will I force you to tell me.”

“Advent calendars.”

“What is that?” Louis stopped himself before taking a bread stick. He held a thumb down when Harry took the olives and prosciutto wraps away. “Tell me.”

“They are the little calendars that have boxes and each box has a little surprise inside.”

“Oh,” Harry smiled, topping off only his bowl with parsley. “Isn’t that for Christmas?”

“I can do them whenever I want.”

“You can.” Harry shaved more cheese on top of Louis’ bowl and a little on his. He took the seat beside the smaller man. “There you go.”

“You must be so tired. I’m sorry that you made dinner. Next time maybe we can order pizza.”

“No thank you. I can make pizza.”

Louis poked at his risotto, “mm, this looks cheesy.”

“Go on.”

Harry paid close attention to Louis before taking his first bite. The chef looked down at his bowl, trying not to smile. The look when someone really enjoyed something couldn’t be faked.

“It’s good,” Harry said first.

“No, it’s really good -like really, really good.” Louis stuck a big spoonful into his mouth. “What are you doing to me?”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t know.” Louis took another bite, “wow. I might want this every day.” He looked at Harry, “can you teach me?”

“Of course.” Harry ate happily. Happier that Louis was enjoying his food.

“Okay but don’t say ‘of course’ and then forget.”

“I won’t forget. You tell me when.”

Louis finished his food before Harry which was a pleasant surprise. “Do you eat a lot?”

“I can but,” Louis scooped up the little bit left. “I don’t – man, it’s so hard to explain my appetite.”

“Try to explain it.”

“I just hate new things and I hate when people force me to eat things I don’t like.”

“Like I did with the pasta?”

“Yeah, the pasta might have been okay -maybe. But I really didn’t want to eat it, but I forced myself to. I eat a lot of food that I don’t like because I feel like I have to. I don’t usually enjoy my food, I just eat it, so I won’t die.”

“Did you actually like the risotto?”

“I really, really like it, Harry. I wouldn’t have finished it.” Louis licked his lips, “it was delicious. So was the pizza and so was the pasta thing.”

“Malfatti.”

“Yeah, that.” Louis pushed his bowl away, “but they might not taste good tomorrow.”

Harry squinted at him, swallowing, “why do you think that happens? Does pizza ever taste bad?”

“Never,” Louis smirked, “pizza always tastes delicious.”

“Do you think it’s in your head?”

“I know it is. I can eat a whole pizza by myself. I can eat a whole pot of rice too. Hm,” Louis tapped on his bottom lip, “burgers. I love burgers, but I had one yesterday and I hated it. I’ve had this burger a hundred times and yesterday I had it and I hated it. I never want to eat it again.”

“Interesting.”

“Weird is a better word.”

“Possibly.”

Louis licked his lips, “I prefer sticking to my usual. I like rice and hot sauce. Barbecue spaghetti-”

“What?” Harry didn’t even take a sip of his rosé. “You like what?”

“I keep forgetting you’re a chef. You’re going to judge me.”

“I said I wouldn’t judge the advent calendar, not this.”

Louis laughed, covering his eyes, “barbecue spaghetti. It’s onions, spaghetti and barbecue sauce.”

“Why would you eat that?”

“It’s good!”

“That sounds terrible. What in the world have you been eating?”

“You just have to try it before you judge it!”

“I probably won’t.”

Louis pouted, “it’s good. I mean, I eat normal stuff like chicken and seafood.”

“Do you eat salad? Vegetables?”

“I don’t like most vegetables.”

“Carrots?”

“Good.”

“Broccoli?”

“Good.”

“Squash?”

“Yuck, no.” Louis shook his head, “gross, gross, gross.”

“How are you so skinny?”

“I probably am malnourished.” Louis frowned, “I hate eating things that have good things!”

“What?”

“I don’t want to eat squash and garlic!”

“Dio,” Harry sighed. “You should try things.”

“No.”

“You tried my food.”

“And, by a miracle, they were all good besides one.”

“You have to try new things, Louis. Things that have nutrients.”

“No.” Louis got off his stool, “I want to watch the movie now. It’s in my car.”

Harry put his head on his fist, smiling drowsily, “okay.”

Louis stepped closer, “you’re really tired.”

“I am but I’m also having a lot of fun.”

“So am I. I like talking to you.”

Harry stood up, “I’m going to have a cigarette outside while you get the movie.”

Louis pressed his lips together, “how long have you smoked?”

“Since I was sixteen, I think.”

“Hm.”

“Do you smoke?”

“Nope. My dad would have killed me if the smoke didn’t first.” Louis left Harry alone in the kitchen giving the chef something to think about.

Was Louis trying to tell him something because Harry really needed the cigarette.

He shook it off, going to his patio. The house had a pool, but Harry never had it filled. He was too busy to swim anyway. He waved at Louis from outside when the man waved at him. He moved his cigarette away, opening the door, “I just realized I don’t have a DVD player.”

“Yeah, I assumed.”

“I am so sorry.”

Louis laughed, hugging the movie to his chest. “It’s okay. Do you have a Smart TV?”

“Can you find it online?”

“I can.”

Harry smirked, “go on.” He closed the door, hurrying to finish the cigarette. He went back inside, passing Louis to wash his hands and grab their glasses and the rosé bottle. “I’m sorry I didn’t have dessert.” He sat on the couch, appreciating Louis from behind. He’d never seen Louis from behind.

He was still small, maybe even smaller from behind. He had a cute butt, small and plump. His legs had little to no muscle with a faint dusting of hair and red spots.

“It’s okay. I probably couldn’t eat it anyway.”

“Did something happen to your legs?”

“No, it’s my psoriasis.” Louis looked down at his legs, “I have it on my leg and my wrist -and sometimes on my arm.”

“What is it? Like a rash?”

“It’s not contagious.”

“I know, you told me.”

Louis shrugged, “some people don’t understand that and get scared if I try to touch them.” He sighed, “it’s like very dry skin. I have breakouts when I’m stressed. It itches like crazy, but I’m not supposed to scratch it.”

“Does it itch now?”

“No, I put my cream on it. The doctor tried charging me seven hundred dollars for ointment.”

“Do you have insurance?”

“Yeah, I do. Can you believe that?” Louis snorted, “anyway, I’ve had it for years. It runs in my family. My mom has it, and her mom too -my aunts. I don’t really care I just wish people didn’t think it was a disease.”

“And your hair. Do you shave?”

“Nope. My hair just never grows.” Louis sat on his knees, staring up at the large TV. “Runs in the family too. I don’t think I’ll ever grow a beard.”

Harry served himself and Louis another glass. “I think I enjoy watching you eat.”

Louis looked at Harry quickly, “told you.” He stuck his tongue out, turning back around.

Harry yawned, rubbing his eyes, “you found it.”

“Of course I did.” Louis quickly turned off his lights, way too comfortable in his home but it was picture-perfect. He sat next to Harry, taking his wine and folded his knees under him. “What do you remember about it? The movie.”

“Um,” Harry bit his cheek, “the dance at the end. She isn’t allowed to dance or something, but she likes the guy.”

“It’s more than that.”

“There should be dirty dancing involved.”

“Duh,” Louis wiggled a little further from Harry, grabbing the throw pillow. He drank sips of his wine as the movie started. “Don’t look at me. Watch.”

Harry smiled, turning his attention to the film.

-

“That wasn’t how I remembered it.”

“But did you like it?”

“I did.” Harry did enjoy it. “It was funnier than I remember.”

“Told you!” Louis hugged the pillow, “I can’t get tired of it! It’s such a good movie!”

“I can see why. You mouthed most of the scenes.”

“You were supposed to be watching the movie, Harry.”

“And I was, but you were distracting.” Harry draped an arm over the couch, “thank you.”

“Thank you for dinner and wine and the movie.” Louis bobbed his head to the credits, “wasn’t the music amazing?”

“I did enjoy the music very much actually. I grew up listening to most of it. I didn’t realize it was in the movie.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed happily, “this was a really good date.”

“I would agree.”

He turned to face Harry, “I know it’s going to be annoying but what was your favorite part?”

Harry chuckled, “hm, let’s see.” He set his glass down, “I liked the beginning, when she was dancing really bad.” The chef had to swallow the spit in his mouth at the way Louis was looking at him. It was as if Harry had hung the moon. “I liked the log part. When they danced on the log. I liked the song too.”

“Me too! I love that part! You know he fell off the log a few times cause he wanted to do his own stunts? He hurt his knee and everything!”

“Did he?”

“Yeah!” Louis screamed into his hands, “I love the beginning so much. ‘I carried a watermelon’!” He covered his face with the pillow, “it’s so embrassing.”

Harry smiled tenderly at Louis’ outburst.

“You would think -everyone says their favorite part is the end, but the beginning is so good.”

“I like that her name is Baby.”

“Me too! I love it! I want to change my name!” Louis fell back against the couch, “the romance is so cute, bad but cute. It’s so eighties. It’s so perfect. Drama, comedy, romance -the freaking soundtrack!” He quickly sat up, “I’m so sorry, you probably want to go to sleep.”

“Louis, my cousin is opening the store tomorrow. I will go in later.”

“How later?”

“Seven, eight.”

“That isn’t later!” Louis frowned, standing, “I should go anyway. My cats need me.” He put the pillow back in its spot. “Thank you again. I had a really great night.”

Harry stood, “me too.”

Louis pressed his thumbs together, “that’s all?”

“Hm?”

“I just -I had fun and so did you so I thought we could do this again. If you want?”

Harry nodded, “I would love that Louis.”

“We’re very different, Harry. We both can see that, right?”

“Yes.” Harry laughed, “you’re so confusing. I think everything is okay and then it seems like it isn’t.”

“It is, it really is. I just have my issues and if we keep hanging out, you might not like them.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know -sometimes I just don’t want people to touch me.”

“What?”

“Sometimes I hate when people try hugging me or holding me.”

“Okay? Like strangers? Because I wouldn’t like that either.”

Louis laughed hard into his hand, “no! Not strangers! I’m saying,” he groaned. “What if we continue talking and we hug one day but the next I don’t want you to hug me or touch me at all?”

Harry closed one eye, “I actually don’t know why that would happen or what I would do.”

“I know and my relationships don’t go so well because of it. I love affection. I want it constantly until I don’t and when I don’t, I really don’t.”

Harry wanted the words to be a detour, but Louis’ dimpled smile and pout was as beautiful as it was last week. He still wanted to kiss him, and he thought that had to mean something.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Louis. I don’t know how I’ll feel about you in a month, but I know that I want to see you at brunch tomorrow. I know that I loved tonight and I would love to keep cooking for you if you’ll let me.” He smiled, “I loved watching the movie with you and your excitement was beautiful. That’s all I know right now.”

Louis stepped forward, “can I kiss you goodnight?”

Harry almost threw himself on the couch as Louis had. “Right now?”

“At the door so it’s not awkward when I leave.”

Harry covered his smile, “okay, Louis.”

He walked the man to the front door, being a body for Louis to lean on as he put on his shoes. He wanted to offer to tie his shoes for him, but Harry walked him outside to the car and opened the door for him instead.

Louis chewed on the corner of his mouth, “my kitchen isn’t as big as yours, and I don’t have a flat stove, but if you want to come to my house you can.”

“I’d like that.”

“I have a full bed. I don’t know what size yours is.”

“A king.”

“Wow,” Louis frowned, “makes sense.” He quickly hugged Harry, mumbling into his chest, “I didn’t mean to have sex in.”

“I assumed you were comparing us.” Harry put a hand at the back of Louis’ head.

“This, I don’t like this.”

“Then pull away.”

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t.” Harry stepped back and Louis chased him, thin arms holding on. “What don’t you like?”

“I don’t know, just feels like there are bugs on my skin. I hate it but it isn’t bad. I wish I wasn’t hugging you.”

“You can stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to go home, and I always want to go home.”

Harry laid his head on top of Louis’, rubbing his back. “I have two guest rooms.”

“I have to feed my cats.”

“Okay.”

“You kiss me first; I can’t do it.”

Harry grabbed Louis by his jaw, “I don’t want to kiss you if you don’t want me to.”

“I want you to, I just can’t.” Louis puckered his lips, “come on. Don’t be selfish.”

Harry exhaled, running his thumb across Louis’ lips. His lips were so pretty.

Louis’ lips were soft like Harry imagined. It was the closest they’d been since they met, and Harry could finally smell Louis. He smelled like sweet shampoo and the same softener Harry used in his laundry. Harry had just wanted a kiss, but Louis pushed his tongue forward and Harry followed fast behind.

He squeezed Louis a little closer, putting both hands on his face, pulling back just to catch a glimpse of Louis’ blushing tongue. Harry groaned softly, pushing Louis against the car, licking across his teeth. He pressed his thumbs into the corners of Louis’ mouth, pushing them outward just liked he wanted to. Harry opened his eyes briefly, happy that Louis’ were closed. His bags were deep, and Harry wanted to kiss them so bad.

His heart was beating so fast when he pulled away just slightly. Just enough so that they could breathe in each other’s air.

Louis hands were gripping Harry’s sides, puffing, “that was good.”

Harry grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Louis’ smiling mouth. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Really good.” Louis looked up, “I wish I could see the moon from here. It would have been perfect.”

“You can see the move from my patio.”

Louis hid his face again, “fuck.”

“Another dollar.”

“Yeah,” Louis muttered. “When can you come over? I want to show you where I live.” The hairdresser moved away, “it’s not as nice but I did a good job on it.”

“Uh, I work every day. How about next Friday night?”

“That would work.” Louis took his keys out of his pocket. “You promise you won’t stand me up?”

“Promise.”

“Okay.” He climbed into the car. “I’ll come by for brunch.”

“Call me, I’ll have something for you.”

“If you answer this time.”

“I’ll make sure I answer.”

Louis smiled, “thanks again.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I will.”

Harry closed his door, watching Louis back out. He stuck his hand in his pocket, waving. Harry dropped his head back, sighing a loud; “fuck.” He went back inside, seeing that the movie had started again. He sat down, running for his phone when he heard it ring.

“Hello?”

“I left my movie.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Bring it when you come on Friday.”

Harry found himself grinning, “hm.”

“I’ll see you Friday, Harry.”

“See you…” Harry dropped his phone on the couch, looking at the DVD. He sat down, kicking his leg up on the couch. Falling asleep to the song ‘Love Man’ playing on his TV.


	4. Cornetto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda a part 1 of 2.  
> Enjoy and please remember that I don't speak Italian. Thank you :)
> 
> *there are some Dirty Dancing ref. that you may not understand if you havent seen the movie. lmk!

**Hungry Eyes playlist:[here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5tkHswR7HA4xy35T5r0xzf?si=D34QEOwjQOGv4eTfzICgNw)**

**-**

“Good morning,” Louis yawned into the receiver and Harry smiled.

“Good morning, Louis.” Harry cleared his throat, pulling the crêpe batter out of the fridge, “how are you?”

“Good -I’m good.” Louis yawned again, “I’m leaving. Are you there already?”

Harry appreciated that Louis called first because as forward as the chef was, he was a little shy as well. He could hardly remember the last relationship he was in. It might have been with a woman. Something didn’t work out and eventually Harry got tired of trying so hard on something he didn’t even want.

Harry found himself confused when he woke up. Confused about who Louis would be to him. Confused about why he was suddenly trying so hard.

He considered his cousin’s words; ‘what is so special about him?’

Louis was cute and nice and, after last night, he was considering more with him. But he was a confusing young man, and because of that, Harry found himself confused as to why he was so interested him.

Harry looked for order and equality in a relationship. He looked for someone who liked the same things as him, someone who was clean and organized. Louis looked like a mess usually, his shoes were never tied, clothes never ironed. Harry ironed his clothes every morning. He ironed his pillowcases, even ironed his sheets.

He shouldn’t, wouldn’t, look for someone like Louis but he was so cute and so genuinely sweet. Louis made him feel young. Harry wasn’t too old but old enough to not understand some jokes. Old enough to be grumpy sometimes. Louis was always smiling, and Harry couldn’t understand how. Even when he was that young, he couldn’t remember smiling that much. Most people didn’t know Harry even had dimples until their second meeting. With Louis, you knew immediately.

He also wasn’t from the United States, some things slipped his understanding.

But Louis didn’t slow down for him and Harry appreciated that.

“I am. I didn’t know when you were coming. I’m preparing the ingredients.”

“I forgot you wake with the birds.”

Harry bit his lip, trying not to smile. He really didn’t want his staff talking about him behind his back.

“How did you sleep?” Harry was bad at small talk. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept great. I’m hungry and I really want to eat something but hopefully whatever you make is good enough.”

The chef bristled, “it will be. You still doubt me after last night?”

“If it isn’t pancakes and eggs then yes. Though, the eggs are a tossup if I’m honest. I still don’t know how I feel about eggs,” Louis mumbled.

“I am not making you something you normally eat. You have to eat different foods, I told you last night. Expanding your taste in food is a good thing.”

“I’ll eat something before I go.”

Harry sucked his teeth, “I’ll make sure you have bread.”

He could almost see the hairdresser smile, could almost see those sweet little lips and crinkly little eyes. “Good.” Louis groaned, “my psoriasis is acting up -sorry if that’s gross.”

“No,” Harry frowned, putting the phone between his shoulder and ear, “it’s not. What happened?”

“It just flares up sometimes, especially in the morning. I hate it.”

“Your cream didn’t help?”

“It does but it doesn’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know,” Louis puffed, and Harry could see him. Louis was so expressive. He could see the man rolling his eyes and folding his skinny arms. He could see Louis shaking his head. Could see the purse of his lips, giving his dimples some time on his face. “It says on the container that it helps and some days it does, but it’s not the best.”

“How much is it with your insurance again?”

“Seven hundred. Crazy. Anyway, I’ll be there soon. The drive isn’t too long.”

“Okay,” Harry looked up at his cousin, turning on the stove. “I’ll see you soon. Call me.”

“I will. See you.”

Harry scrunched his nose at Liam and his cousin took the phone off his shoulder. “Hm?”

“You don’t let anyone on the phone in the kitchen.”

Harry chewed his cheek, “it was important.”

“Was it?” Liam smirked, “how did your date go? You still haven’t told me.”

“Because we’re busy.”

“And you aren’t helping.”

“I’m,” Harry swallowed, stirring the crêpe batter. “Making Louis brunch.” He went to the fridge to grab some fruits. Harry dropped everything on the table, “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Liam smiled. “What did you two do?”

“Liam-”

“Tell me, cugino. My zia called me just last night because you were not answering her phone calls.” Liam smirked, sitting on a stool Harry planned on destroying after they closed. “I said you were probably asleep from working so hard.”

Harry pressed his lips together tightly, pouring the batter on the buttered griddle. He didn’t answer at first, using the wooden spreader to spin his batter into a perfect circle. The chef stared at the crêpe, leaning heavily on the table.

“We kissed, that’s all.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Liam,” Harry flipped the crêpe, cutting strawberries. “I answered you.”

“Hai cucinato?” _(Did you cook?)_

“Sì.” _(yes)_

“Cosa hai cucinato? Parlare!” _(What did you cook? Speak!)_

“Risotto.” Harry plated the crêpe, mapping out where he’d put the whipped cream. He glanced at his cousin, trying to ignore the scrutiny. “Che?” _(What?)_

“Did you show off your skill?” Liam looked at his crêpe when Harry didn’t answer. “That looks awful.”

“What?” Harry frowned, “why?”

“Why is it so plain?”

Harry licked the corner of his mouth, dusting powdered sugar over the top. “Louis is picky.”

“How old is he again?”

“Liam, do you have nothing to do?”

His cousin stood, “you haven’t dated in years. I am interested. Is that wrong?”

“Go flip the biscotti over.”

“Why did you make more biscotti?” Liam snorted, “we have plenty.”

“Not any chocolate ones,” Harry grumbled, making another crêpe.

“You make him chocolate biscotti and not me? -Oi!”

“You know how to make biscotti.”

“Cazzone.” _(dickhead)_

-

“I said call me.”

“I did!” Louis put his bag on the back of the chair, “I was waiting for a table.”

“You called me after you waited. I could have gotten you a table faster.”

“Psh,” Louis waved a hand up and down, “I don’t need special treatment.” He sat down, looking up at Harry. “Are we going to have breakfast together?”

“Brunch.”

“Brunch.”

“Yes,” Harry smiled, “I have to make some things, but it won’t take long.”

Louis poked a finger at him, “you promised me bread.”

“I will bring you bread.” Harry wanted to kiss him, but Louis wasn’t making a move, so he went back to his kitchen.

Harry made three different kinds of crêpes and chocolate biscotti that had just finished drying out in the oven. He would also prepare coffee for them.

But first, Harry promised Louis bread.

He walked out the three small plates of different colored crêpes to the two-seater table. He set them down, smiling at Louis’ stunned expression. “I’m going to the bar to get your bread.”

Harry walked through the tables, pleased that the were at full capacity, every table filled and more to come.

He went behind the bar, falling in line with the baristas.

He wanted to ask if Louis liked coffee but decided against it.

The owner grabbed a mug and an espresso cup, blowing out the steam wand to rid it of any water. Harry ground espresso into the portafilter, packing it down with the tamper. He locked it into the espresso machine, queuing the shots before steaming his milk. Harry tilted the metal pitcher at an angle, looking around the restaurant.

He blinked at Louis, smiling at the man when he waved.

Harry ignored the fluttering in his chest.

Harry quickly wiped the wand and tapped out any small bubbles sitting on the surfaces. He poured slowly, making small circles in the caramel-colored espresso. Harry focused on his movements, smiling to himself when he made a large white heart in the cappuccino. He quickly ground more espresso, pulling shots for himself.

Harry slid past one of the baristas, making small talk with the customers sitting at the bar while he grabbed three cornettos.

He said a quick goodbye, balancing the cappuccino, espresso and cornettos in his arms. He set it down on the table before sitting.

“Oh my God,” Louis gaped at the cappuccino. “Can I take a picture of this?”

“Of course.” Harry crossed his legs, watching Louis take several photos of the table.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” He put his phone away, “this looks amazing. I always see pictures of coffee like this.”

“Try it.” Harry picked up his small espresso, “if you want sugar it’s there.”

Louis frowned, “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Try it.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“I assumed.”

Louis looked down at it, “but I really want to.” He grabbed a handful of sugar and Harry set down his espresso.

“You cannot add all of that.”

“Then I can’t drink it.”

“Try it alone first.” He pointed at a cornetto, “try it together.”

“I want to eat the crêpe.”

Harry grinned, “you will try all of them.”

“Mm,” Louis pointed at the orange crêpe, “what is that one?”

“Crêpe Suzette.”

“What does that mean?”

“Try your coffee first then I’ll explain.”

Louis took a big bite of the cornetto then sipped his cappuccino when Harry prompted him. He shook his head and Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “I will have it then or do you want to add sugar?”

“Please.” He picked up his water, drinking it. “I like the croissant a lot.” Louis took two more bites. “Mm.”

“Please you want me to add sugar or you don’t want it?”

“I don’t want it. Thank you for the beautiful heart though.”

Harry took a sip, “delicious.” He licked his lips, taking the last cornetto. “It is not a croissant. It’s called cornetto. It’s an Italian croissant.”

Louis looked at it, “what’s the difference?”

“This has eggs, croissants don’t.”

“Croissants don’t have eggs?” Louis hummed, eating half of his cornetto. He swallowed before speaking, “what -like, what do eggs do? Because this looks and tastes like a croissant.”

“Eggs give it a bread like texture. Croissants are mostly air and butter.” Harry watched Louis devour the last of it, “I’ll make you croissants one day. You’ll see the difference.”

“I’ve had croissants.”

“Not mine.”

Louis looked down, smiling, blushing. He wiggled, “I’m happy that I came.” He batted his lashes at the food on the table. “I was worried you weren’t going to want to see me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to? I told you I did.”

“We’re so different,” Louis whined. He pouted at him, “I want to eat the crêpes.”

“Do you like crêpes that much?”

“I hate them, but they look so pretty.”

Harry laughed, “go ahead, Louis.”

“You still haven’t told me what creep Suzy is.”

“Crêpe Suzette.”

“Yeah.”

“No one really knows why it’s called that, but it is basically orange flavored and has liquor. It is flambéed. This one takes long so I prepared it beforehand. It is usually cooked in front of you.”

“I’m worried about it.”

“I know.”

Louis grinned, dimple poking his fat cheek. “I know you know.” He grabbed his fork, going into that one first. “Please eat with me.”

Harry unrolled his utensil, cutting a piece. He put it in his mouth, nodding, “mm. Cold but very good.”

Louis took a bite and immediately made a face. “No,” He ate it with squinted eyes. “That is awful.”

“Thank you, Louis.”

“Sorry! You told me to be honest!” Harry sipped the cappuccino, letting Louis put the plate on his side. “Can I try this one?”

“Of course.”

Louis picked up the crêpe and Harry’s brow went up. He took a large bite, whipped cream shooting across his cheek. He lifted a thumb, using it to wipe the cream off, “good.”

“There is nothing in it.”

“Mmhm.” He rolled it and ripped it in half, stuffing his mouth.

“I hate how you eat.”

Louis looked thoroughly offended. “You said you liked watching me eat.”

“I like watching you enjoy your food, not the way you enjoy it.”

“I like this one the best,” Louis detoured. He finished the plain crêpe, going for the fatter one. “Share this one with me?”

“I would hope so.” Harry set down his coffee, stopping Louis before he put half the crêpe on his plate. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you half.”

“You’re going to mix the flavors. Leave it there.”

“Sheesh.” Louis used the back of his fork to scratch his wrist, “is this gross?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.” He put the fork down, rubbing his wrist against his jeans. “Itches like heck.”

“Heck?”

“My swear jar is calling my name after yesterday.”

“I have your three dollars.”

“Aw,” Louis smiled, “you remembered about them?”

“Yes.”

Louis preened, “I like you, Harry.”

Harry sat up a little straighter, cutting into the Crêpe Suzette so he didn’t have to talk. He wiped his mouth, “I also have your movie.”

“My favorite movie.”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember anything about it?”

Harry chewed, thinking, “lover boy?”

Louis’ eyes grew twice their size, “oh? And if he doesn’t answer?”

Harry covered his mouth, smiling wide, “lover boy?”

Louis eyes went soft, “and if he still doesn’t answer?”

The chef felt a tightness in his throat when Louis’ foot tapped against his. “Then I’ll say…”

Louis leaned forward, “I think I’m going to like you a lot, Harry.”

“I hope so.”

Louis smiled, moving back against his chair. “What is this one?”

“A savory crêpe.”

“With?”

“Just try it.”

Louis took a big bite and Harry couldn’t understand why he ate like that. He stared at Louis chew, contemplate, unable to hide the confusion.

“I don’t -know.”

“I find myself less surprised by you.”

“Is there mushroom-”

“Don’t pick, Louis.”

“I’m trying, man.” Louis took another bite, thinking. “I like it but, but why is the mushroom there?”

“I can’t take it out.”

“I can.”

“Don’t.” Harry ate another bite of his crêpe. “You sometimes eat like a bird and other times you eat like you’re starving.” Louis ignored him, moving the table. “What are you doing?”

“My leg itches like crazy.”

“I think you need a different cream.”

“Duh,” Louis stuck out his tongue. “Was I supposed to say, ‘bun appetite’ before or after I eat?”

“What?”

“You know I said it wrong, don’t do that.”

Harry laughed loud, “it’s buon appetito. You say it during a meal or before.”

“Say it again.”

“Buon appetito.”

“I didn’t do the ‘o’ part.”

“You didn’t do any part.”

Louis laughed, covering his giggles with his hand. Harry found it to be beautiful. The carefreeness he felt with Louis was almost scary. Louis was full of youth and Harry was worn out. It had him thinking all over again, judging himself for trying to be with someone eleven years younger than him.

It was probably why Louis brought up their differences in the first places.

“I know you work early,” Louis calmed. “But I would really like to see you again, later.”

Harry shivered, “why are we so different?”

Louis frowned, brows coming together. “Are you upset?”

“No.”

“It feels kind of serious all of a sudden.”

“You said were different.”

“You agreed yesterday that we were!”

“But you brought it up again today.”

“You can’t tell me that you can’t tell we’re different. I live in an apartment with six cats and I do hair for a living. You own a restaurant, you’re from Italy -you have a beautiful house. You have your life together. God, you look like you iron clothes. I don’t even own an iron.”

Harry almost reached over the table to kiss him.

“I do iron all my clothes.”

“See.” Louis rubbed his red wrist, “I just don’t want you to be disappointed. What you see is what you get with me. I don’t even know half about you.”

“And every time I see you, I learn something different.”

“Like?”

“You are considerate. You don’t like special treatment. You eat food you don’t know differently than you eat food you know. You like changing conversations.”

Louis blinked, “I just -if I don’t like it, I want to eat it faster.”

Harry glanced down at his cold cappuccino, “I would love to see you tonight.”

“My apartment is small.”

“You told me that. The size of my kitchen.”

“I said your kitchen was bigger.”

“And I said I doubted that.”

Louis smiled, giggling, “come meet my cats.”

Harry knew he was talking about tonight but -but-

“I will open the store tomorrow so I should be home early.” He could see Louis’ face slipping. “Can we go after brunch?”

As fast as it went, it was back. Louis reached across the table, “can I kiss your hands?”

Although Harry was confused about the random question, he gave Louis his hands. He let him kiss the top of each one, “Can I?”

“I don’t want you to, but you can.”

“Then I won’t.” Harry took his hands away but not before his cousin approached the table. He sat up a little straighter, “Liam, you remember Louis.”

“Of course. Hello.”

Louis smiled wide and bright. Harry couldn’t even look at his cousin. Could only look at Louis, admire the charm he didn’t even know he had.

“Hi again.”

Liam smiled and Harry was happy that it was genuine. “How was brunch?”

“Good, thank you.” Louis looked at Harry, “I really liked the cor-nets?”

“Cornetto.”

“That.” Louis looked back at Liam, “I liked that.”

Liam nodded, “I am glad.” He looked at his family member, “did you want the chocolate biscotti?”

“I’ll wrap it to-go in a minute.”

“You aren’t staying for lunch?”

Harry took a deep breath, “no. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Of course, of course.” Liam looked at Louis again, “very good to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Louis waved at Liam when he left. “Man, he hates me.”

Harry chuckled, “he does not.”

“Do you talk about me to him?”

“I try not to,” Harry groaned. He quickly lifted a hand when Louis’ lip fell. “No, not like that. Please, I meant -he teases so much.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No, not at all.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, “I’m not, Louis. He just always has something to say and I like you and I don’t want his thoughts on my choices.”

Louis nodded, “should I do the same?”

“What?”

“Should I do the same? Should I not talk about you if someone teases me?”

Harry licked his lips, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” Louis shrugged, “I don’t want this weird part to make you not want to come over.”

“I don’t want you to not want me over.”

“I want you over.”

“So I can meet your cats?”

“Mmhm,” Louis smiled.

“Let me grab our biscotti and your movie then we can leave.”

“Kay.” Louis looked at the table. “We can take it to go.”

“You don’t save brunch and you wouldn’t eat it anyway.”

“Yeah but-”

“Don’t pay for anything.” Harry stood. “Someone will pick up this. I’ll be back, okay?”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand, kissing it again. “Kay.”

-

“So is that a typical Italian breakfast?”

“No.” Louis’ car was small, but the drive wasn’t too long, so Harry accepted his cramped fate. “Crêpes are French.”

“Thief. Stealing from the poor French.”

“Appreciating is the better word.”

“Did you steal their croissants too?”

“Croissants are from Austria.”

“Oh,” Louis puckered his lips at the road, “fun fact.”

Harry pointed at the hanging cat air freshener. “Is it supposed to smell like cat?”

“I don’t know,” Louis flicked it. “I don’t remember what is smelled like. I got it as a gift from a cat clinic.”

Harry smiled, holding onto the grab handle in the car as they entered the apartment building. “Sorry, there are so many speed bumps.”

“It’s fine, Louis.”

Louis parked badly, backed up, and parked again. Harry got out first, stretching his knees, “you drive fast.”

“Do you?” Louis dropped his heavy keys on the floor. He put his phone in his pocket before picking them up. “Drive fast?”

“Very.” Harry grabbed the biscotti and the movie.

“I can see that.” Louis held out a hand, “want to hold it?”

“I do.” Harry took his small hand, letting Louis lead the way. He looked back when the car beeped, signaling it was locked. “That car is perfect for your size.”

“And your car is perfect for your wallet.”

Harry smirked, climbing the stairs behind Louis, hands still entwined. He looked around the hall, “right here?”

“Isn’t it great? I have the corner apartment, so I don’t bother anyone with my ‘loud’ cats.” Louis put his key in the door and Harry finally saw the mess that was attached to it.

“Why do you have so many keychains?”

“Gifts.” Louis unlocked it, squealing when he saw his cats waiting. “Hello everyone! I brought a friend.”

Harry remembered seeing them in pictures, barely remembered their names, but he still wasn’t ready for them.

“Come in.” Louis took off his shoes, kicking them against the wall. Harry carefully set his shoes down, letting one of the cats smell him while the rest went after Louis. “This is my casa -Spanish for house.”

“Italian for house.”

“Stealing from the Spanish now?” Louis spread out his hands. His apartment was small but not smaller than Harry’s kitchen. “This is it.”

“Interesting.”

“What can I say? I’m a gentle soul.” Louis sat on the middle of the floor, “come, so you can meet each one.”

“I know that one.” Harry pointed at the cat on the couch. “Sheela?”

“Very good!” Louis patted the shaggy rug beneath him. “Sit with me.” Harry sat, careful of the cats around Louis. “So, that is Sheela. This,” Louis lifted a cat with no eyes. “This is Marco.” He lifted the next cat that looked the most normal besides the short tail, “This is Coconut.” He lifted another. This cat had short legs, “this is Knuckles.” Louis picked up the smallest of all of them. “This is Peppermint.” Peppermint had a large scar across her face and clipped ears. “And last, but not least.” Louis held up a hairless cat, “this is Scissors.”

“Their names are very interesting,” was the first thing Harry could think of.

“Can you name all of them?”

“I think so.” Harry started pointing, “Scissors, Sheela, Marco? Knuckles, Coconut and -Peppermint?”

“Good job!”

“Why are they named these things?”

“Sheela came with her name. Marco came with his name. Knuckles used to bite my knuckles bloody for some reason. Coconut likes coconuts, he can’t have it often but, when I give it to him, he gets so happy.” Louis scratched Peppermint’s ear, “her scar is pink, and her fur is white so yeah. Peppermint. And Scissors scratched me a lot when I first got her.”

“Sheela, Scissors and Peppermint are girls. The rest are boys?”

“Mmhm. Wanna hold one?”

Harry stared at the cats, “okay.”

Louis picked up Scissors, “here. She’s really nice.”

“You said she scratched you.”

“Not anymore, dumb-dumb.” Louis stood and Scissors jumped right out of his hands, running after Louis.

Harry looked around, confused by the different decor. He wasn’t sure what theme Louis was going for. Harry’s theme was very Italian. He wanted warmth to radiate just like his home in Italy.

Louis’ home had a bunch of plants in a corner, a red couch and a purple rug. The coloring was an odd combination and offensive to the eye. If Louis wanted his home to look like Harry’s, he was far away from close. At least it smelled good, really good. Smelled fresh, just like Louis.

“I know,” Louis interrupted his rude thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking.” Harry hoped he didn’t. “The colors are ugly.”

The chef swallowed, “they are-”

“Ugly, it’s okay. I just moved in here six months ago.” Louis held out a hand, helping Harry off the rug. Harry sat on the red couch, wiggling. “Uncomfortable?”

“It’s-”

“Uncomfortable.” Louis picked up the biscotti from the floor and put the movie on his TV stand before sitting back down.

“Do you have to finish all my sentences?”

“You are a normal guy, Harry.” Louis sat next to him, picking up Sheela to put her in his lap. “A normal nice guy that would never tell me that my couch doesn’t match my rug. You would never question how ugly the lavender on the walls is.” The hairdresser smiled softly, “it’s okay. I hate it too.”

“Why did you pick these colors?”

“I didn’t. They were gifts from very different people hence the difference in colors. I had money but I wanted to spend it on other things, not furniture.”

“Like your calendars?”

“And my animals and,” Louis pouted, mumbling, rubbing his legs, “my psoriasis medicine.”

Harry nodded, “it’s okay.” He pointed at the plants in the corner, “and that?”

“Is what I want my home to look like.” Louis rubbed Sheela’s ear and, despite the cats now surrounding them, Harry almost didn’t notice. No meowing, no scratching, nothing. “I want white and brown, and plants. My room is perfect. I spent the most money on it.”

Harry didn’t ask to see it even though he really wanted to.

“At first,” Harry looked around, “I would think this was you.”

Louis frowned, letting Sheela down. He moved up on the couch, folding his legs, “I understand why but I’m not this. I hate this. I want normal colors.”

Harry smiled, “I understand.” He tried getting comfortable on the couch. “So,” he started, “the cats.”

“Aren’t they wonderful?” Louis looked down at them, all laid out on the soft purple rug. “They don’t bother unless they’re hungry.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

Louis laughed, “you’re terrible.” He rubbed his cheek, “if you must know; Sheela is old and deaf, you know that. Marco was abused. They cut his poor little tail and blinded him, so I had surgery to take his eyes out.” Louis whined softly, blowing a kiss to the cat. “Knuckles has short legs. I have to give him lots of massages. Coconut,” Louis sighed, “He has a form of down syndrome found in cats, and he’s obviously missing a leg and he has a clipped tail. And Peppermint was abused. I have to feed her by bottle. She’s my tiniest one.”

“And Scissors?”

“Oh, she’s fine.” Louis snorted at the bald cat, “a princess if anything.”

“Is it hard taking care of all of them?”

“I had Scissors. Then I got Coconut. I got them both as kittens. I knew I wanted to be the ‘cat lady’. I wanted the prettiest cats. I wanted Royal cats that had to be pampered. I wanted to pay big money for their food. Scissors I found on the street. I thought someone shaved her, but she turned out to be a Sphynx.”

“Those are expensive.”

“Yes, they are.” Louis threw up a hand, “I was so excited! I had my expensive cat!” He smiled fondly, picking up Peppermint. “Then I found Coconut. Then I met Marco and I wanted to find him a home, but I started noticing no one wanted cats with ailments. They came looking for a kitten, a normal kitten, or none. The same kittens that they got rid of once they got older.” He gave Peppermint to Harry, picking up Knuckles, “then I decided that I didn’t want a pretty cat. I just wanted as many cats as I could love.”

Harry ran a thumb across the top of Peppermint’s white fur as she settled in his lap.

“See how good they are.” Louis stood up quickly, taking the movie off his TV stand. He squatted, turning on the TV, “do you mind if it plays while we talk?”

“Not at all.” Harry tried petting Knuckles, but the cat jumped away.

Louis went to the main menu option, taking the remote with him. He grabbed the biscotti bag as well, opening it. “Everything you do is so pretty, even the packaging.” Louis offered Harry one before taking a large bite of his own, “Mm.” He put it back in the bag, “that’s good.” He smiled, playing the movie, “so excited.”

“Did you like it?” Harry bit into the biscotti as well, “it’s really good.”

“It is but I’m okay for right now. Maybe I’ll eat it later or something.”

“Mhm.”

“I will! Anyway, I think I know what we’re doing.”

The restaurant owner blinked, “what are we doing?”

“Back and forth questions. We get to know each other.” Louis curled his hair between two fingers, “I ask you a question now.”

Harry grinned, “okay.”

A soft pink blush colored Louis’ cheek, “have I told you how handsome you are?”

Harry chuckled softly, “you have not.”

“I think you are such a handsome man.” Louis bit his lip, “gives me anxiety when I think about it.”

“Why?”

“I kind of wonder why we get along so well. You are the embodiment of a suit and I am a flip-flop.”

“You are not a flip-flop,” Harry laughed, hand resting on Peppermint. “We are different and I’m not going to say I wasn’t thinking about it after last night.” Harry’s eyes softened, “I see our age difference.”

“Harry,” Louis held up a hand. “I don’t. I’m an adult. If you are uncomfortable being with me because you think I’m a child, this isn’t going to work.”

“No, please,” Harry breathed. “I just don’t want to -I don’t want you to not be in a younger relationship.”

Louis looked away, “so stupid.”

“Hey, Louis.” Harry moved Peppermint from his lap, scooting closer. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Please don’t touch me.” Louis stood up, “I’m missing my favorite part.” He turned away from the TV. “Are you controlling or something? Do you want me to feel bad for you?”

“I can be controlling.” Harry stood up, “you’re being inconsiderate and that isn’t me being controlling.” Harry’s brows creased, “I like you and this is moving so fast and so slow. I don’t know how to date, I’m old.” He rubbed his neck, “Dio. I just-”

“We aren’t dating. It’s okay,” Louis grabbed Harry’s pinky. “I’m a little nervous and I’m making things weird. Please don’t leave but, if you want to, you can.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Louis pouted, “in Italian?”

“Promessa.”

“Promessa.” Louis pulled him to the couch, chewing his bottom lip red. “I know that was weird. I made this weird. I swear I’m super passive. I just haven’t met anyone like you. I haven’t felt a connection with someone like you.”

“No,” Harry sat after him, “It wasn’t weird. I think it needed to be said.”

“I didn’t find a younger guy. I found an older man that likes to feed me and that I think about more and more every day. I found you, and I like you.” Louis put Harry’s large hand to his lips, “please, I like you. Don’t be insecure about your age. I’m surprised you even like me! You are such a beautiful man, and I’m not ugly, but I’m not anything special.”

“You are starting to become more and more special.” Harry wanted to reach out and touch Louis’ face. Map it out with his calloused hands. “I think that you are different from me in almost every way, but I’d still like to like you.”

Louis’ smile turned into a deep grin. He pressed loud kisses into Harry’s fist, “am I going to have to ask you out first?”

“Are we doing that right now?”

“No,” Louis giggled. “But when the time comes.”

“If you want to. I trust you to make the right call.”

Louis leaned forward and Harry held his breath, closing his eyes briefly when Louis’ lips touched his. The man smiled, bags as dark as ever, full of tiredness. Harry swore to ask about them before he left. He just hoped Louis didn’t take offense because Harry was staring to love them.

He was starting to love a lot of things, like the soft sounds that escaped Louis’ throat when they kissed.

“Now,” Louis whispered, “you’ll hurt me if you don’t trust me, all right?”

Harry nodded, pushing forward, pressing his hand around Louis’ skinny side. He bit Louis’ bottom lip loosely, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm,” the chef hummed against his cheek. “Go,” Harry whispered back and the sound that escaped Louis made his dick twitch. “Go, go…”


	5. Gelato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont speak Italian but I'm doing my very best. :)

“Are you thirsty?”

“I’ll have some water.” Harry walked behind Louis to the kitchen. He looked around, not seeing much. “Do you cook often?”

“Define often,” Louis smiled. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, “here you go.” Louis sat on the counter, looking confused when Harry didn’t open the water. “What?”

“Nothing.” The chef then did open the bottle, drinking half.

“Hey,” Louis kicked him lightly, “tell me.”

“You shouldn’t sit where you cook.”

Louis’ eyes grew in wonder and he laughed, “my goodness. You really take food seriously.”

“Of course, it’s what keeps us alive.”

“So does water.”

“Yes, but you’ll eventually die of starvation without food.” Harry set the bottle down, “I’ve traveled to many places and food is always at the heart of everything. Food is essential and since I know that I am lucky enough to have it, I take it very seriously.”

Louis slowly slid off the counter, pouting a little, “makin’ me feel bad.”

“It’s your house.”

Louis cut his eyes softly, “I see the controlling part.”

Harry licked his lips, “and?”

The hairdresser grinned, “I don’t hate it.” He grabbed Harry’s bottle, taking the chef’s hand in his own, “don’t push it though.”

Harry’s heart fluttered.

They made out for the first twenty minutes of the movie, stopping when it got too heated. Harry forced himself to stop because he was getting hard, like a teenager. He was always tired, always doing something pertaining to work. Harry only masturbated to get it out of him, and Louis was about to bring it out of him.

They fit well, too well. Two pieces that were nothing alike but fit together perfectly. It was like having only two pieces left of a puzzle, but one was an odd color. But it fit. They fit so Harry didn’t give a damn.

Louis’ mouth was full of sounds, full of words. Harry loved kissing him and didn’t want to ever stop. His lips were so soft and would turn so red against Harry’s own. His face was soft against the chef’s pointy stubble. His lashes long and dark against his skin. Harry knew he should keep his eyes closed while they kissed but he wanted to see Louis’ eyes, watch his lashes shake.

Louis was under him, just as hard as he was, teeth biting on his bottom lip. He smiled warmly at Harry when the owner had stopped. Louis put a hand through his hair and whispered; ‘I’m missing my favorite part’.

Harry was slowly starting to see that every part was Louis’ favorite. So, he made sure to tell him he was full of shit.

Seeing Louis’ laughter from so up close was just as, if not more, beautiful than from a distance. His dimples took over his whole face. Harry wanted to stop noticing them, tell himself that he had them too. They were just dimples. But, God, did Louis wear them well.

“I want to show you my room before you have to go.”

They finished the movie with the heaviest air between them. Harry wasn’t hard anymore, but he wasn’t soft either. His hands ached to touch Louis, to rub the dry skin on his leg when Louis scratched it. Did Harry find himself desperate for every part of this man? Very much. Did it scare him? Very, very much.

“This,” Harry found himself surprised. “This is very different.”

Louis’ room was a blanket of white and brown. White sheets, white rug, brown dresser, brown headboard. The wooden blinds were up, shining a beautiful amount of light across the bedroom. It was spotless. His bed was made, and shoes put away. There were small lights around the room, just like Louis had once said. They were off now.

Harry was very surprised.

Louis motioned him to the pet beds lined up beside the full bed. “One for each of them.” He smiled, hugging himself, “what do you think?”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Harry looked at the bed again, blinded by the sunlight coming off it.

Louis probably looked so beautiful laying on it in the morning. Harry imagined when it was dark, when his little lights were on. He would look so beautiful above or below Harry-

“Very different from out there.”

“I know,” Louis huffed, dropping his arms. “Normal.” He wiggled his fingers at his bed, “not as big as your _king_ but it’s still beautiful.” He sat on the edge of his bed, “what does yours look like?”

“Not as much white. More brown, darker colors.”

“So different,” Louis cooed. He pressed his lips together, “want to see my swear jar?”

“I have your money.”

Louis quickly ran to his closet and it was then that Harry noticed the cats around him. They were very quiet.

Harry bit his lip at the half-empty jar of mostly coins. “It’s not very full.”

Louis’ lips puckered as he mumbled, “needed to use some…”

Harry chuckled, taking out his wallet to put three dollars inside. “It’s very colorful.”

“Yeah, I decorated it.” He put the jar away, closing his closet, “want to see more stuff?”

Harry smirked, “anything you want to show me.”

Louis blushed, scooting over to the light brown chest at the end of his bed, “this cost me two-hundred dollars.”

“The thing you’re showing me or the chest?”

“The chest.” Louis opened it, motioning inside, “look!”

Harry squatted, taking out a calendar, “the advent calendars?”

“Yep.”

“You have a lot.”

“Yep.”

Harry put it down and grabbed a crossword puzzle book, “and a lot of these. You have a few on your bookshelf too.”

“Do you want to open one of the calendars with me? I haven’t opened one for today.”

“Sure,” Harry put the book down, waiting for Louis to pick the calendar. “What?”

Louis closed the chest, mouth twisting to the side, “you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I,” Louis looked up, thinking. “I know somethings I do are boring to people and that’s okay. Please, if you don’t want to do something with me, tell me. I don’t take it to heart. I don’t want you to get bored of me.”

“Louis,” Harry shook his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking. I’m here because I want to be. I want to see and enjoy what makes you happy. It isn’t boring.”

Louis frowned, “I watch Dirty Dancing every day.”

“Do you love the movie?”

“You know I do.”

“Then I love that you love it.”

Louis dropped his head, opening the chest. Harry closed it, coming closer to lift Louis’ red face. He kissed him slowly, waiting for Louis to kiss back. Harry hugged him, rubbing his face against Louis’ neck before laying a soft kiss there. “I really like being with you.”

“You might not want to be with me later though.”

Harry pulled away, “are you such a bad person?”

“No.” Louis sighed, rubbing his wrist, “I’m not even insecure. You just, it’s hard to see past our differences.”

“I know and I accept that, but I see past them. I appreciate how different we are.”

“I want to be your friend even if wherever this leads doesn’t work the way we want it to. But,” Louis groaned, “to stay your friend you can’t be bored of me.”

“I can’t date you unless were friends, Louis. So, if it doesn’t work out as friends, I wouldn’t date you. I think,” Harry sat down, crossing his legs, “I think you are absolutely beautiful. Sei troppo bello, amore. You are always so happy, you have such a wonderful,” Harry squinted, “what’s that word in English.” He knocked on his head, “fucking shit, why can’t -energy. Jesus Christ.” Louis laughed. “Your energy is so special, and I love being caught in it. I love so, so many physical parts of you and I love so many non-physical things. I’m not bored. I’m very straight forward. I don’t have to lie to you; I don’t want to.”

Louis sat back on the heels of his feet, nervous, “what did you say?”

Harry huffed a smile, “you are too beautiful.”

Louis swallowed, “amore is love… in Spanish it’s amor.”

Harry grinned, grabbing Louis’ hand, “how do you know so much Spanish?”

“I take it in school as my language.” Louis’ face was so bright red. Harry thought it was beautiful.

“You are right,” Harry kissed Louis’ hand. “Can we look at the calendar now?”

“I’m really embarrassed.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Louis closed his eyes, “please don’t leave.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Don’t talk.” Louis opened the chest, taking out two calendars. He stood, walking out of the room, leaving Harry alone.

Harry tried touching one of the cats, Coconut, but he hobbled after Louis. Harry touched the advent calendars, waiting patiently for Louis to return. The calendars were different; one had Santa on it and the other had a beach on it.

Harry looked up when Louis returned, less red with a bottle of water and the biscotti. Harry closed his mouth before saying a word. He picked up the Santa calendar while Louis watched, looking for the date. It wasn’t December but it was the twenty-second, so Harry picked that one.

His long fingers fumbled to remove the small object and Louis laughed.

“You got a candy cane,” Louis preened.

Harry nodded, “just like your cat.”

Louis hummed, “mmhm.”

“Do you want to do the other one?”

“You can.”

“I want you to.”

Louis grabbed the beach one and opened the box with the twenty-two on it. His small fingers pulled out a seashell. Harry shut his eyes briefly at the joy across Louis’ face -over a seashell.

He may be in deeper water than he thought.

Harry could be happy with Louis forever, buy him millions of advent calendars if it made him that happy.

“Look.” Louis held the shell out in his palm, allowing Harry to see the psoriasis on his wrist more clearly. Past the little fake shell was red dry skin that Harry wanted to kiss pink. Kiss it until it was gone. He wanted to ask Louis if it was painful because it looked raw and ripped.

Instead he took the shell in his own hand, ignoring how fast Louis hid his hand.

“This is fake.”

“Yeah,” Louis shrugged, “it’s the third one I’ve gotten.” He smiled, cheeks fat and high, “I keep them on my windowsill in the kitchen.”

Harry set it down beside his candy cane, “do you sleep well?”

Louis grinned, biting his bottom lip, “I sleep awful.” He rolled his eyes, “do my bags give it away?”

“Yeah.”

The man laughed, “yeah.” He shrugged, “I have sleep deprivation.”

“Insomnia is common in-”

“Nope,” Louis wiggled his finger, “not insomnia. I have sleep deprivation. Insomnia isn’t something you can really control, sleep deprivation is -kind of. School and work beat me up a little.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah,” Louis huffed, “I’m trying to get my sleep back in order but it’s hard.” He shrugged, taking a biscotti out of the small bag. He offered Harry one, “no?”

“I’m fine.”

Louis nibbled at it, “I don’t think I want this. I’m sorry but,” he quickly spoke, “I’m going to try it tomorrow.”

“What,” Harry pressed his lips together, thinking. “When did this start?”

“Uh, I don’t really remember. I think it started in high school?”

“Tell me again what you like eating.”

“Harry, this is a losing battle.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Everyone can open up their palette, but they have to want to.”

Louis nodded, “I know, but I don’t.”

“Then you could easily like something but say you don’t because you lack an open mind.”

“I know,” Louis groaned, “we talked about this. I just,” he pouted, “I don’t know if scared is the right word. I don’t want to try new things. I know it’s good for me, but I want to be picky.” Harry raised a brow and Louis blushed, “don’t do that.”

“You want to be picky?”

“I think so. I like that I hate garlic. Jesus, I sound fucking crazy -fuck!” Louis covered his eyes, “dammit -dammit!” He sobbed, “I don’t have money.”

“I can-”

“No,” Louis huffed, “no.” He shook his head, “whatever. I just want my meals to be the same thing every day.”

Harry found himself laughing, “who wants that?”

“Me. I just said it.”

“That’s not healthy.”

“I’m not the healthiest vegetable at the market, Harry. I eat rice every fucking day.” Louis threw his hands up, “I give up.”

Harry smiled, “I am going to expand your palette.”

“And I’m going to let you because part of me wants to understand why I don’t like the foods that people like. I want to hate them but part of me wants to like them too. The thing is though, I don’t hate the food. I just don’t want to eat food that I even like sometimes. Some days nothing tastes good even though it should. I can eat chips one day and then hate them the next so I have to find something else, but I hate that to. I eat things I’m not enjoying just to eat.”

“That’s very confusing.”

“I know,” Louis snorted, “sucks.”

“That’s fine though.” Harry pointed at the chest, “when did this start?”

“About a year ago, oddly. I’d never had one, ever. I didn’t know they were even a thing. My parents never gave me one, we rarely even put up a tree cause there was never any space in our small apartment.” He grinned, “then I got one as a gift and I was so happy, Harry. You have no idea. I couldn’t stop smiling every time I opened one.” Louis eyes went soft, lips parting, “a little gift every day. It’s so cute.”

Harry played with the shell when Louis’ loving gaze became too much for his chest. “And the crosswords?”

“I love crosswords, since I was young. Passes the time when I’m on the train and stuff, or between classes.”

“What about the touching? Did something happen?”

“No,” Louis frowned, “I don’t know when it started but it started strong. Something about people touching me sometimes makes me sick. Sometimes I don’t even like people saying thank you to me. It’s really fucked up.” Louis’ eyes fluttered like he was seizing, “I keep cursing, come on! Anyway, it sucks. Sometimes I get so happy and I want to hug everyone but then I don’t. Sometimes I just -I’m a mess.”

“It’s fine. Have you sought out help for it?”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that, Harry. People hug me, people touch me. You can always hug me, I’m very affectionate but it doesn’t mean I always like it. I like to be the one who gives the love first.”

“Maybe you get overwhelmed.”

“Oh yeah. You know what it feels like?” Louis wiggled, sitting up a little. “You know after it rains. How the air gets thick and humid?”

“Yes.”

“That’s how it feels when someone touches me when I don’t want to be touched.”

“Very specific.”

“Sucks,” Louis drawled. He crossed his arms, “what about you, mister. What about all your horrible attributes. Something has to be wrong with you.”

“I have a big ego.”

“Hm,” Louis smirked, “I can tell. I haven’t seen it too much, but it peeks occasionally.”

“I have a temper.” Louis nodded slowly. “I like things a certain way, controlling. I’m not sure. I don’t think any of your attributes are horrible.”

“Say horrible in Italian.”

“Orribile.”

“Stealing from the Spanish again I see.”

Harry chuckled, “did they steal nothing from us? Words originated from Latin, as did Italian and Spanish.”

“‘Italian’,” Louis mocked with a smile, “love your little accent.”

“You like copping it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Harry looked away, grinning, making Louis laugh. He rubbed his chin, “when can I see you again?”

“I don’t want to say because I don’t want you to leave.” Louis started putting his things away. He looked at Harry somberly, “do I have to leave something on you again to make sure you see me again?”

Harry sat up on his knees, towering over Louis who was also on his knees. He put both of his large hands at the sides of Louis’ neck, kissing him. “Nothing.” He rubbed his nose against the man’s soft skin, “do I?”

“No.” Louis mouthed at Harry’s lip, making a soft noise. “Please, I’ve been stood up before. More times that I want to admit. If you don’t want this, you have to tell me, Harry.”

“I want this more than you know, Louis. And, I’m sure next time I see you, I’ll want more.”

“I feed cats outside. I sometimes have allergy attacks. I sometimes sleep on the floor. My psoriasis gets really bad sometimes. It hurts and I want to cry. I get tonsillitis every other fucking month; it’s not mono. I don’t take care of myself sometimes in many ways. I shave my pubes,” Louis frowned deeply, “in different shapes that never look how they should. I sometimes get a lump under my butt, just one but I’m not dirty. It just always comes back. I went to the dermatologist finally and they said it was a cyst. They removed it but it might come back -it’s been five months and nothing. I talk a lot and ask a lot of questions. I’m independent but I want to be happy with someone. My hair falls out and it’s cause I lack nutrients.”

Harry’s mouth stayed shut but his brows went tight together, shocked by the influx of statements.

He sat back, thinking, “why did you say all of that?”

“I want to tell you the worst parts about me that you haven’t seen so you aren’t surprised when you do. I know there are more things, but I either haven’t accepted them or I don’t know what they are.”

Harry licked his lips, unable to speak. He shook his head, “Louis,” the chef blinked. “Louis, I’m going to pretend I heard nothing. I don’t want to know your flaws, let me find them. Let me decide what I see, and you can do the same. Because nothing you said sounds like a flaw, not a flaw that I dislike. You say you aren’t insecure but-”

“I’m really not but every time someone comes in my life, something -some part of me, takes them out. And I just like you so much,” Louis groaned, hands cupped together. “You’re so nice to me and you don’t think my cats are weird and gross. You are so freaking cute and I love your greys and your smile. I hate that you smoke.” Harry had to close his mouth again, amazed. “I hate it, but it suits you and I will accept it because you accept parts of me. I just,” Louis shrugged, “really want to see you again and sleep with you eventually. I’m young but I’m tired of working and school and coming home to no love. I love my cats, but I want someone, you know. Someone who accepts the fucked-up parts of me.”

Harry nodded, understanding -accepting. He removed the very thin string bracelet off his wrist, holding it out. “Hold onto this for me. My great grandmother gave me this before she died. I love this bracelet more than most things. I wear it every day.” He put it on Louis’ thin wrist, tightening the red string. “The small charm is the virgin Mary. I don’t really care for religion, but my grandmother did. Keep it safe for me. If we don’t work out, I’ll come back for it.”

Louis quickly hugged him, hiding his face in Harry’s cologne covered chest. “Kay…”

“Kay…” Harry kissed the top of Louis’ head, wondering if the man could hear his racing heart. Harry stroked Louis’ back, “Gattino dolce.”

Louis pulled back, hands on Harry’s chest, “in English?”

Harry smiled, unable to take his eyes away from Louis’ pretty mouth, “sweet kitten.” Louis looked like he was about to cry before he wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle again.

-

“Mamma!” Harry grinned, rolling back from his computer, “Ciao mamma! Come stai?” _(Hello mom! How are you?)_

“Sto molto bene, Harry. Come stai? Dove ti sei nascosto?” _(Very well. How are you? Where have you been hiding?)_

“Hiding. Che hiding?” Harry smirked, “I have been busy, mamma. Running a restaurant.”

“Aye,” His mother scoffed, “I do not care. You call me.”

“Sì, mamma, sì.”

“Dimmi. What is going on?” _(Tell me.)_

“Nothing,” Harry stared at his bare wrist, thinking of Louis. “Working.”

“Mm,” She hummed. “That is all?”

“Mamma, if Liam told you something-”

“Oi. Liam tells me nothing these days. Cazzo. You tell me.” _(shit/dick)_

Harry took a deep breath, “I met someone.”

“Harry,” His mother’s voice fell to a soft note. “Why you don’t tell me?”

“I was. I just wanted to know I was serious first.”

“Amore, I do not judge who you are with. No one does.”

Harry remembered telling his family he was gay, the surprise -the talking. He shook his head at the thought. It was a long five years. “I know.”

“Tell me about him. Qual è il suo nome?” _(What’s his name?)_

“Louis.”

“Bello. How did you meet?”

“Mamma.”

“Dimi, Harry!”

“Outside the restaurant.” Harry was a private man and his family was far from it. “He is beautiful and sweet as gelato.”

“Bellissimo. What else.” _(beautiful)_

Harry groaned internally, “I just met him. Nothing else.”

“I expect to learn more, Harry. Sì?”

“Yes mam.”

“Perfetto. When can I meet him?”

“Dio, mamma. Cazzo, I just met him.”

“So? I cannot?”

“No. Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry could almost feel her slapping him on the thigh. “Can I see a picture?”

Harry rocked backed in his chair, rubbing his face, “per favore…” _(please…)_

-

“Fucking shit, fucking shit,” Harry cursed, pressing the button on the machine to keep churning the gelato inside. He looked around the running bodies, stressed at how messy everyone looked. He quickly turned back to the machine, extracting some before closing the small door again. He hit it once, mumbling, “fuck.”

It wasn’t cold enough even though the machine said it was.

He took a deep breath, pulling the gelato early before shoving it the blast freezer. Harry wiped his hands on his apron, using the hose attachment to spray inside the machine and rinse it.

“Chef.”

“Hm?”

“Someone’s here for you.”

“I’m busy.” Harry unlocked the small door, rinsing out any leftover residue from the strawberry gelato.

“Yes sir.”

Harry opened the blast chiller, quickly working the pliable gelato into a simple design. “Eric!” Harry shoved the gelato back inside. He closed the machine’s door, kicking the blast freezer door, “strawberry and chocolate. Put them out.”

“Yes chef.”

Harry opened the fridge beside the machine, taking the pistachio container out. He immersion blended it, tasting it before pouring it inside the machine. Once it was rolling and chilling, Harry started chopping pistachios to sprinkle on top.

“Harry.”

Harry looked up quickly, looking back down when he saw it was his cousin. No one called him by his name while they were on the clock in his kitchen. No one but Liam.

“Hm?”

“Louis is out there. You sent him away?”

“Louis?” Harry stopped chopping, “no?”

“I told him to wait.”

“What?” Harry poured the pistachios into a bowl, handing it to Liam. “Sprinkle it on the gelato once it’s out.”

“Oi, cause I’m not busy. I have a station. I am running back and forth too.”

“Just fucking do it.” Harry removed his apron and jacket, leaving them in the kitchen. He held the flapping door open for a busser, walking through the lobby. His eyes found his small love interest on his phone, sitting in the corner of the waiting booth.

Harry could feel his heart tug him closer to the quiet man.

“Gattino.”

Louis looked up quickly, closing his phone. His eyes went from surprised to tender, “hi.”

“Hi,” Harry kissed Louis’ cheek when he stood, not missing Louis’ wiggle. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispered. He looked nervous, “I was around.”

“Hm?” Harry leaned closer to hear him. “Tell me, amore.”

Louis groaned, “I was around!” He sighed, “I was a little hungry.”

Harry smirked, “are you here for my food only?”

The hairdresser frowned, “no.”

The owner kissed him quickly, “come, tesoro.” He took Louis’ hand, walking him over to the bar. “Do you mind sitting here?”

“I don’t.”

Harry helped him onto the barstool despite Louis’ protest. He waved over his bartender, whispering in Louis’ ear when Lina held up a thumb. “What would you like, gattino?”

Louis shivered, leaning back against Harry, “risotto.”

“It takes a while.”

Louis nodded, “mal-fatti?”

“No, you’ll have risotto.” Harry grinned, kissing loud behind Louis’ ear, “if you want it, you’ll have it.” He rubbed Louis’ side, asking for a water and a glass of pink Moscato. “Ring it up and I’ll get it after.”

“Yes sir,” his bar tender, Lina, smiled. She was a nice girl, loud and always dancing to whatever Italian music was playing.

“I’ll go start it. Just give me a minute.”

Louis turned in the stool, “can you eat with me?”

Harry wanted to say yes, “I can’t. The kitchen is really busy.”

“Okay.” Louis mustered a smile, “I’ll tell you when I’m leaving.”

Harry kissed Louis, pretending his workers weren’t watching him. If they didn’t know he was gay, they knew now. “Tell someone to come get me.”

“I did,” Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry almost bit it. “You sent me away. Liam came to my rescue. I think he hates me less.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Harry growled playfully, squeezing Louis’ sides.

He didn’t want to leave him. He wanted to see Louis smiling. Wanted to see him eat the risotto Harry was about to put his whole soul into. He wanted to watch Louis’ charm; watch him charm everyone around him. He wanted to hear about his day.

Harry wanted to stay so badly.

He waved off Liam when he asked what the ‘ _fuck’_ he was doing. Harry was well aware of the orders, well aware of the amount. Liam often forgot that his cousin could run a kitchen alone if he had to -and he had.

Harry knew that risotto couldn’t be left alone, knew he had to stir it. He wasn’t an amateur cook. He was a damn good chef, and Harry had never burned his risotto before. Didn’t burn it while he helped cut ingredients or drain pasta. He didn’t burn it while he plated food and cleaned the whole area.

Could he make gelato and risotto at the same time? No. But Harry could do a lot.

He took his cheesy risotto out to his precious potato sitting as high as he could with a glass of pink Moscato in hand. With untied laces and ripped blue jeans. Louis’ backpack had cat patches all over it and his phone was about to fall out of his back pocket. He looked so out of place at the bar but still beautiful against the orange lights hanging above him.

His mom said it perfect; _bellissimo_. Louis was a Michelangelo come to life.

Harry had been to the Vatican Museum, had seen the Sistine Chapel. Harry had seen beauty, but God would be wrong to say Louis was not more beautiful out of place in his restaurant.

“Here you go.”

Louis jumped; hands cupped together when the plate was set in front of him. He turned to kiss Harry briefly, “thank you, Harry.”

“Of course.” He leaned on the bar, “will you have dessert?”

“I saw some ice cream.”

“Gelato.”

“When you aren’t busy, tell me the difference.”

“Okay.” Harry brushed something off Louis’ cheek, “promise to tell me when you’re leaving?”

Louis held up his wrist, showing Harry’s bracelet, “swear.”

Harry kissed Louis’ wrist, and the underside of his wrist. Kissed the red skin there, “see you soon.”

Harry went the rest of his shift an angry mess of curses. He forgot about Louis for a moment. He was pissed at all the backed-up orders, pissed at the expediters taking forever. The chefs were pissed, which only added fuel to his fire.

“I can’t do everyone’s fucking job! Come on!” Harry shook his head, plating and organizing plates. “How fucking hard is it!”

Once everything was caught up, Harry ran to the pastry table to help. He stuffed the cannoli shells before dipping the sides in chocolate chips. Harry put them in the fridge, starting on the next batch.

“Do you have more filling?”

“Yes chef.”

“I’m just asking. Keep working.” He stuffed more cannoli, thinking about Louis. Wondering if he’d like cannoli. “The ricotta,” Harry mumbled to himself. Louis may hate the taste of ricotta. “Different filling isn’t a cannoli,” Harry huffed, putting the next tray in the fridge. He was happy to see the other was already gone. “Tiramisu,” Harry whispered, “no coffee. Fuck.”

He went over to the blast chiller once he was done, stopping himself from throwing the pan. “Liam!”

“Oi!”

Harry threw the pan down on the counter, “you left the fucking pistachio in the freezer!”

Liam walked over, wiping his hands, “mi spiace. _(I’m sorry.)_

“What the fuck.” Harry huffed, “it’s pistachio. It’s a brick!”

“I know, Harry.”

Harry left the brick of gelato there before he exploded. He went back to the expeditor area, “where are you?”

“The steak and-”

“Harry. The person that was here is leaving.”

“Cazzo!” Harry puffed, removing his apron and jacket, quickly going to Louis. He ran hand through his hair, “hey.”

Louis was standing, “hey.” He pouted, “are you okay?”

“I’m fucking stressed.” Harry sighed loudly, “need a fucking sigaretta.” _(cigarette)_

“What happened?”

“I swear to God when the kitchen gets hot everyone becomes stupid.”

Louis smiled, “that’s not nice.”

“Well I shouldn’t have to do everyone’s job. That’s why I fucking pay them.”

Louis nodded, “I agree but relax.” Harry rolled his eyes and Louis’ eyes grew. “Hey,” He snapped his fingers. “I’m not one of your workers.” The chef swallowed, straightening up. “Don’t treat me like one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve never worked in a kitchen. I don’t know the stress but,” Louis came closer, “everyone out here looks happy so you all are doing something right.”

“How was the food?”

“Hmph.” Louis fixed his bag, “Amazing. I ate the whole thing.”

Harry smiled, “and dessert.”

“Chocolate gelato.” Louis cupped his face, “so good.”

“I made it.”

“Of course you did.” The hairdresser kissed him, “I have to go.”

“The cats?”

“Mhm. Call me?”

“It’s going to be late.”

“Please?”

“You already don’t get sleep.”

“And that isn’t going to change from one night to the next. Call me.”

“Okay.” Harry put a hand on Louis’ face, “you look so beautiful.”

Louis gaped, “sh!” He whined, “that’s so nice but a little embrassing.”

“Sorry I couldn’t eat with you.”

Louis hugged him, “everyone was nice so it’s fine.”

Harry walked Louis to the front doors with one final kiss goodbye. He watched him walk down the path to the train, somehow not tripping over himself with his long laces dragging.

Louis left and so did Harry’s calm when he went back into the kitchen.

-

“Hey,” Harry put his cup in the cup holder of his car, backing up. He forced himself not to smoke in his car, but he really wanted to. That and Louis confessing that he actually hated that Harry smoked made his stomach uneasy. “Why did you pay for everything?”

“Because I’m not a free loader.”

“I said it was covered.”

“I wanted to.”

“I’m giving back your money.”

“No. You are going to accept it. You can’t keep feeding me.”

“I like to. I’m Italian. We like feeding people.”

“A stereotype?”

“Yes.”

Louis laughed, “just accept it.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“That’s very controlling of you, Harry,” Louis teased. “Did I tell you I really love your restaurant?”

“You have. Multiple times.”

“I love it so much.”

“Thank you. Are you in bed?”

“Yeah,” Louis yawned, “I was doing a crossword.”

“Did you do the calendar?”

“Yep! I got a chocolate in the Christmas one and a ring in the beach one.”

Harry grinned, “does it fit?”

“No, and I’m allergic to fake jewelry. How was work?”

“Fine.”

“Oh really? You didn’t sound fine.”

“Everyone works hard but they work messy and I cannot stand a mess.”

“I’m a mess.”

“You are the only mess I want.” He smirked at Louis’ shy giggles. “How was school and work?”

“I failed my test at school,” Louis sighed. “I’m so upset. I have to ask what I did wrong. Work was work. I dyed hair, cut hair, braided hair.”

“I used to have long hair.”

“No way, really? Aw, I wish I could have braided it.”

“What kind of braid?”

“Was your hair really long?”

“Past my shoulders.”

“Wow. Hm, your hair was probably thin. I would have done a regular braid or a waterfall braid.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Just a design that I get to charge extra money for.”

“Do you do all types of hair?”

“All types. If you can’t do all types, are you even a hairdresser?”

Harry smiled, “so sweet.”

“You called me something, but I couldn’t understand it.”

“No? Your Spanish knowledge is not helping?”

Louis laughed, “shut up!”

“Tesoro,” Harry smiled, “it means treasure.”

“How do you know I was talking about that word?”

“Because you know enough Spanish to know amore and I told you gattino.”

“You have a very good memory.”

“You may hate me for it.”

“That’s okay. I like it for now. I really, really liked the gelato, by the way. Are you going to tell me the difference?”

Harry made a turn on his street, “gelato doesn’t usually have eggs like American ice cream.”

“Ice cream has eggs?”

“Usually.”

“Well, fun fact.”

“Gelato has less air. It’s dense and thick.”

“It was different in taste. I don’t think I’ve ever had gelato. It was delicious and they swirled it.”

“That’s how it’s normally served.”

“It was very pretty.”

“You looked very pretty under the orange lights.”

“I have them lit all around my room.”

Harry bit his lip hard, “can you send me a picture of you?”

“Yeah…”

Harry arrived home, taking his shoes off at the door. He showered, towel drying when the photo came in. It was Louis’ face only lit up in parts by the yellow lighting. His eyes were bright blue in the dark, dimples on his cheeks. Harry quickly saved the photo, tapping his phone against his forehead at his want.

A second photo came in of one of the cats, Sheela, on Louis’ naked stomach. The lights were ontop the sleeping cat’s back along with Louis’ hand. The hand with Harry’s bracelet. Although she was the focus of the photo, Harry could only stare at the skin he saw.

Harry got into bed, saving that photo as well. He sent a quick text to Louis; ‘thank you.’

‘Welcome’, came the response. ‘Can I have one?’

Harry turned his lamp back on, taking a photo of himself. He stared at it for a while. Stared at his crows’ feet and smile lines, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He sent it without thinking, turning off the light and laying down.

Harry quickly opened his phone when it buzzed.

‘You’re going to make me fall in love with you.’ Harry blinked at the text, squeezing his phone. He read the next text that came in, ‘don’t drop me.’

Harry sent a text back, ‘I’m saving your ass, but I want to drop you on it.’

He sat up when a call came in a few seconds later. “Louis?”

“You make me so happy. Fall asleep with me?”

“Yeah.” Harry laid back down, putting his phone on speaker. “I think I said it wrong.”

“Kind of, but I loved it. I loved it…”


	6. Tiramisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont speak Italian but I'm doing my very best. :)

“Leah!” Harry opened his arms for a hug. He squatted right after, opening his arms for Angelina, “patatina. How are you, my love?” Harry lifted her, rubbing her small back, “I missed you.” _(little potato.)_

“Mi manchi, zio!” _(I missed you, uncle!)_

“Oh, amore.” Harry set her down, touching her puffy hair, “are you getting your hair done?”

“Mhm! Mamma is doing it!” Angelina grinned, “I made a new recipe!”

“Oh?” Harry grinned, “did you now?”

“Let him come inside, Angie.” Leah shook her head, taking Harry’s hand. “She will keep you out in the cold if you let her.”

Harry smiled, “so long as I get to see her.” He kissed Leah’s cheeks, “how are you, Le?”

“Sto bene. Come stai?” _(I’m good. How are you?)_

“Good, a little tired.” Harry removed his shoes, “the casa is finally filled I see.”

“I did my best,” Leah winked. “Liam lo odia.” _(Liam hates it.)_

Harry shrugged, “he will live.”

“Zio!” Angie lifted a piece of paper, “look!”

“Angie, lascialo camminare. Per favore.” _(let him walk. Please.)_

“Si mamma, scusa.” Angelina ran back a little, motioning Harry to follow as he read. “Come this way!” _(Sorry.)_

Harry grinned, “this is good, patatina.” He sat on a chair at the table. Harry glanced at the hair products, thinking of Louis.

“Sit, sweetheart. So mamma can finish.” Leah parted Angie’s hair down the middle, “how does her recipe look?”

“Very good but,” Harry smirked, “too much dextrose and it will be too sweet and too soft. There has to be a balance, amore.”

Angelina frowned deeply, folding her arms, “darn.”

Harry blew a kiss at her, “very close. I expect perfection, Angie. I serve nothing less. Once you have it, it will be added to my menu. You have to think of a name as well.”

“It will be perfect!”

“I know it will be.” Harry put his head on his fist, “e Liam?”

“He went to buy wine.” Leah grinned, “tell me everything while he is gone.”

“Oi. What is there to say?”

“Aye, please.” Leah scoffed, “speak up, Harry.”

Harry smirked, “he does hair.”

“Grazie Dio. I will pay him to do Leah’s.” _(thank God)_

“He can.”

“He can do mixed hair? Her hair is 3C, does he know what that is?”

“I do not know but he told me himself that he can do all types of hair.”

“Hmph.” Leah shrugged, braiding Angie’s hair while the girl kicked her feet. “If he wants to try. He can even try mine.”

Harry adored Leah. She was the most honest, realest person he knew besides his grandmother and mother. She did not hold her tongue, she didn’t live to please. She loved his cousin, loved their daughter. Leah stood up for what she believed in and Harry commended her.

When he came out, she didn’t even flinch. Instead it became a game when they were together; ‘Who’s cuter, him or him?’

“He does hair and?”

“He’s beautiful, Le.”

Leah smiled, “let me see him.”

Harry stood, not needing to go far to find Louis’ photo. It was his phone screen now. The one of him shirtless with lights across his stomach. “There.”

“Oh no, Harry.” Leah laughed, “that boy is very young.”

“I know. He is twenty-four.”

“Can I see him?” Angie whispered. Harry showed her the photo and she giggled, “he isn’t young.”

Leah rolled her eyes fondly, “Liam told me he was young, but he looks like a baby.”

“Do not make me feel worse. I already self-pitied and he didn’t like it. Told me if I couldn’t see him as an adult that it wouldn’t work. I see him as one. I’m trying my best, Le.”

“Hm,” Leah flipped Angie’s hair to the side, “he is very pretty.”

Harry sat, running a hand through his greys, “do you really think he is too young?”

“Tell me more about him first.”

“He does hair and goes to school to be -cazzo,” Harry sighed, “the word slips my mind every time. It is the people in court who type out the case.”

“I wouldn’t know either,” Leah mumbled. “Oi, stop moving, amore.”

“Sorry, mamma.”

“Go on.”

“He is so sweet, Leah. There are parts of him though that are,” Harry searched for the right word, “interesting.”

“Like?”

“His taste in food.” Leah laughed, holding the comb in her mouth. He wondered if Louis did that. “He sometimes likes it and sometimes he doesn’t.”

Leah removed the comb, “food?”

“I know. I think it’s best that I try not to explain it. I just started understanding.”

“When you can explain it, you tell me.” Leah smiled, “Liam says the ristorante is getting busier.” _(restaurant)_

“It is killing my back.” Harry sat up straight, “but yes. I am more than pleased with the foot traffic. I think I will be revising the menu soon, adding things for fall.” The chef winked at goddaughter who giggled. “You are going to look so beautiful.”

Angelina blew him a kiss, “grazie, zio.” She kicked her feet a little harder, “I have a favore.” _(thank you) (favor)._

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” Angie closed one eye when her mom pulled at her hair. “My teacher’s birthday is on Wednesday.” Harry smirked when Angie pouted. “Can you make her a cake?”

“A cake or cupcakes?”

Angelina grinned, “cupcakes because then everyone can have one.”

“And you did not ask your dad?”

“He is not good at cakes.” She looked around, whispering, “he told me to ask you.”

Harry laughed, sitting back, “of course, amore. What flavor?”

“Chocolate! With sprinkles!”

“And the frosting?”

“Um, vanilla?”

“Butter cream?”

“Mm! Yes, please!”

“Angie, ferma.” _(Stop)_

The child stopped moving, “Yes mamma.”

“Thank you.”

“Chocolate cake, vanilla butter cream and sprinkles.”

“Yes.”

“I will bring them Tuesday night then.”

“Thank you, zio.”

Harry hummed, “I love you.”

“I love you too!”

-

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Louis.” Harry set his phone on the counter, putting it on speaker. “How are you?”

“I am very, very tired.”

Harry smiled, cracking eggs to separate the yolk from the white. “I can hear it in your voice. You are at school I assume?”

“Yes, waiting for my class to start. I have another exam today; I have to pass.”

“What are you learning exactly?”

“Medical terminology and court room procedures right now. It sucks.”

Harry smirked, “Are those the classes you failed your test in?”

“Medical terminology,” Louis mumbled. “Can we not talk about school?”

“What do you want to talk about? You called me.”

“Yeah, cause I knew you’d be awake and I wanted to hear your voice.” Harry’s heart fluttered gently. “What are you doing?”

“Separating and weighing egg whites.”

“At six in the morning? Jesus Christ, Harry. Go to sleep.”

Harry laughed softly, “I am fine, gattino.”

Louis made a small sound, “I love when you call me things I barely understand.” Harry chuckled, pouring the egg whites into the mixer. “Why are you separating egg whites? What does that even mean?”

“I’m separating the yolk and white. I’m making Pavlova.”

“Another thing I don’t know.”

“It is like meringue.”

“I need a better description.”

“When you whip egg whites, they become fluffy. I add sugar, flavoring if I want, and I bake it. I will make it for you one day.”

“Today? I have to find two cats a home.”

“Animals are not allowed.”

“You allow me inside.”

Harry frowned, “you are not-”

“I was kidding, old man. It was a joke. I know they aren’t allowed.”

The owner smiled, “I’ll make you one fresh another day.”

“Good.” Louis hummed a small beat into the phone, “tell me something.”

Harry stared at the egg whites slowly turning white and frothy. He put an arm on the mixer, thinking, “I’m making cupcakes for my goddaughter’s teacher’s birthday on Wednesday.”

“A mouthful, huh? That’s so sweet of you! I want cupcakes for my birthday.”

“When is your birthday?”

“December. I’m a Christmas gift baby.”

Harry bit his lip, because Louis was a gift indeed. “I will make you anything you want.”

“Even risotto?”

“Even risotto, although I would like you to try other things.”

“No. Tell me more about your goddaughter. You’ve never mentioned her.”

“She’s Liam’s daughter. I love her very much.” Harry stopped the mixer, thinking of Angie. “She means the world to me.”

“How old is she?”

“She is seven.”

“Well, if your cupcakes are as good as your ice cream, everyone is going to love it.”

“Gelato, and yes they are.”

“Gelato. There is a difference.” Louis shuffled on the phone, “I think I’m really early.”

“I’m alone, I don’t mind staying on the phone.” Harry added sugar, whipping the mix before adding the rest of the sugar. He cracked his neck, “Leah is Liam’s wife. She’s very nice. I told her about you.”

“Oh? Finally talking about me?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Tell me.”

“I tend to remember things that honestly don’t matter.”

“Tell me, please?”

“A while back you mentioned Liam teasing you, so you didn’t want to tell him things about me.”

“Louis,” Harry sighed, stopping the mixer, “I want to tell everyone I know about you. I just don’t want to hear the same; ‘he’s young’.”

“I guess.”

Harry pulled the bowl away, folding in the vanilla, cornstarch and vinegar. “I wish I could see your expression.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you are upset.”

Louis sighed, “it’s okay. We’re different. I’m louder with my love, and that’s okay. It’s okay, I promise. Tell me what you told Leah.”

Harry stopped folding, spreading the mix onto two trays, “how beautiful you are. I told her that you are a hairdresser and that you eat weird.”

“Did you tell her you liked it?”

“No.”

“Ah,” Louis teased, “Don’t make me out to be the only weirdo.”

Harry smiled, “she was curious about what kind of hair you do. I told her all types. Angelina, my goddaughter, has very curly hair.”

“What type of hair does she have?”

“Leah said what type of hair she had but I don’t remember.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Louis smiled into the receiver, “I can do all hair, Harry. I’ve worked really hard on learning all hair. If you ever want me to, I would love to. But that would require me to meet your family. You would have to be a little less shy about me.”

“Tesoro, I am not shy.” Harry threw the two trays into the preheated oven. “I want everyone to meet you but, I don’t want anyone scaring you away.”

“I live with cats; I scare people away.”

“Not me.”

Louis laughed softly, “no, not you.”

-

Harry stomped out his cigarette, walking towards Louis. He waited a few steps back, not wanting to interrupt him giving a cat away.

Louis’ bag was covered in cat patches, Harry knew, but it still made him smile.

“Yep, shots and all.” Louis scratched under the cat’s chin, “she’s the sweetest thing ever.”

Harry smiled, licking his lips. He watched Louis wave at the cat and the woman who was currently walking away with it. “You got rid of one.”

Louis spun around, “hey! Scary!” He scoffed, “I _gave_ both away to good homes.” The hairdresser picked up his bag, “I knew I would. They were small.” He rolled his eyes, “always the first ones to go.”

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand, kissing it. “Is that okay?”

Louis smiled wide, “yeah.” He came closer, “we’re _those_ people.”

“What people?”

“The ones that stand in the walkway and kiss.”

“I’m not kissing you yet.”

“Yet?” Louis dropped his bag by his feet, wrapping his arms around Harry’s sides to hug him. He looked up, pecking the chef on his lips. “Did you just smoke? You smell like smoke.”

“Yes.” Harry reached in his pocket, unwrapping a piece of gum and shoving it in his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Smoking is bad for you, no matter how cool it looks,” Louis nagged. He kissed Harry again anyway, quickly holding up his red wrist with the bracelet, “look, I’ve taken such good care of it. The cats try to eat it.”

Harry kissed the thin string on Louis’ wrist then his skin. The bracelet being there was more important than Harry could ever explain. He was sure Louis didn’t understand its importance -maybe he did.

Harry’s great grandmother was the source of his interest in cooking. She cooked until her hands wouldn’t allow her. Until she was bedridden and put under ground. Harry remembered watching her roll long sheets of pasta out by hand. He remembered how she could make nothing into a lavish meal. He remembered her home always smelled like food. He never ate before going to see her.

Harry remember her soft voice in Italian telling him to ‘ _follow his dreams’_. That she loved him, and she believed in him. She gave him the bracelet off her own wrist and Harry loved it. He treasured it and swore he would keep it forever. Now, Louis had it. Harry treasured him as much a man could treasure another he had just met.

Harry woke up with a cold wrist and an aching feeling in his chest. Seeing it on Louis’ wrist though, it eased the cold and the ache. It lit Harry’s heart up like a brick oven. Seeing that red string let him breathe a little easier.

He found his hands pulling Louis closer and closer to the side of the restaurant. He kissed him a little harder, smiling while Louis giggled openly. The man tried grabbing his bag off the floor, laughing while Harry pulled.

He kissed Louis’ cheek, both of them, lifting his chin to kiss him some more. He loved kissing Louis. Harry could kiss him forever.

Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry was surprised to find his gum. “Gross, Harry. Really gross,” Louis grinned, chewing in spite of his words. “So much for private.”

“I think I’m in love with kissing you.”

“Ew, I thought you were going to say you were in love with me.”

“No,” Harry touched Louis’ feathered hair absently, “not yet.”

Louis’ cheeks burned a soft pink, dimples in his face peeking, “not yet…” Harry licked his lips, way too focused on Louis chewing his gum. Harry rubbed Louis’ eye and the man laughed, ducking away. “That’s my eye!”

“I don’t ever want your bags to go away, but I want you to get more sleep.” Harry could see groups flowing into the restaurant. He should go help but he couldn’t move if Louis wasn’t going to follow.

Louis grinned, chewing. Harry kissed him again before he could respond. Part of him wondered if someone was watching. Him, grey hair and crow’s feet, kissing this soft, small, youthful man. He wondered what they were thinking, if they cared. He hoped he didn’t look like a sugar daddy. He hoped he didn’t look like a creep.

Harry was surprised at the small hand against his cheek, stroking his stubbled face. “You are going to grow old making so many faces.”

“I thought I was already an old man.”

“Hey,” Louis bit, “only I can say that.” He ran a hand through Harry’s hair, “old man with grey hair and the most beautiful smile in the world. Grey hair, might I add, that many people pay for.”

Harry ducked his head, smiling to himself, “grazie.”

“I’m taking-” Louis paused. “Can I come over again? So we can talk about our day?”

Harry bit his cheek, “I leave late.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry-”

“We’re adults. We have to work, I get it.” Louis shrugged, “can you have lunch with me?”

“Right now?” Harry looked back at some guests who left. “Uh.”

“It’s okay if you can’t.”

Harry wanted to.

“We can have lunch tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? We can save it for another day.”

“No, we can have lunch tomorrow. What time do you leave work?”

“Tomorrow,” Louis bit his lip, thinking. If only he knew what his lips did to Harry. Harry always had something in his mouth, a cigarette, his knuckle, his necklace. Harry liked lips, liked mouths. He loved watching Louis talk, loved watching him bite his lip -smile, anything, “My last appointment is at two? I think I can be at your house at three.”

“Perfect.”

“And what will I be consuming?”

“A surprise.”

Louis groaned, picking up his bag, “I hate it already.” He fixed the bracelet on his thin wrist. On Harry’s wrist it was much tighter, with less string hanging. “Make me pizza?”

“No pizza.”

Louis frowned deeply, “malfatti.”

“Maybe.”

The hairdresser smiled, pulling the gum from his mouth to put it back in Harry’s. “Perfect.”

Harry made a face at the gum but chewed, “perfect?”

“Ah. In Italian.”

“Perfetto.”

“Perfetto.”

-

“Do not make lunch!”

“Huh?”

Louis huffed, “I know I said to make lunch but don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I am very full.”

Harry felt jealousy crawl up his throat. “What did you eat?”

“Some food they ordered for the store.”

“What food?”

“There was rice and beans, meat.”

Harry took a deep breath, tucking one hand under his armpit, “it does not sound like you even know what you ate, amore.”

“I ate all the rice. I’m really full.”

“So you only ate rice?”

“Are we doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Are you going to start controlling what I eat?”

“Do you want me to? We talked about me opening your pallet.”

“Yeah, but offering me different foods is different from being upset because I didn’t eat what you wanted me to eat.”

“You can’t eat rice forever.”

“I like rice!”

Harry rubbed his tired face, squatting against a wall while he waited for the train. “I will make you food to take for lunch. You should bring your own lunch to work and school.” Harry frowned, “what do you eat at school?”

“If I tell you, you might faint.”

“Tell me.”

“Vending machine food or air. Sometimes both.”

Harry groaned, “you’re starving yourself.”

“No! I just ate three servings of rice. I don’t starve myself; I just eat too much all at once.” Louis made a growling noise, “get off my ass.”

“I want you to eat good food.”

“Good food costs good money. It also takes too long to make.”

“I’m going to meal prep for you.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Prepare your meals ahead of time so you have it for the week.”

“Harry,” Louis sounded flustered. “We aren’t dating yet.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.” Louis huffed, “I just want to see you _and_ ,” he clipped, “when I see you, I don’t want to talk about this. I want to talk about other stuff.”

“I can’t promise that but okay.”

“You are a piece of work, Harry.”

Harry smiled, closing his eyes, “so are you.”

-

Harry ran to the door, socks slipping on the floor. He usually went for a jog in the evening, never so excitedly though.

“Hey,” He breathed, taking Louis into his arms when the hairdresser dropped into them. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis yawned. He looked up, chin on Harry’s chest. “Tired. -Smells like fish.”

Harry slid a hand behind Louis’ head and one on his chin, kissing him. “Come inside.”

Louis bit lip, “it feels so good when you touch me.”

“Not like when it rains?”

“No, it feels like that too.” Louis stood up straight, kicking his shoes off. “Still feels good.”

Harry stared at the shoes, remembering the first time Louis came over. “Why don’t you tie your shoes again?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know.”

Louis grinned, wiggling back and forth at the entrance, “I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how to tie your shoes?” Harry gapped, “are you serious?”

“I’m just kidding but they always come loose. I always had tape ones as a kid.” Louis slid past him, wandering. Harry watched him in the sunlight that crowded his living space. It looked even more beautiful to see the man in the day. Harry knew it would.

Louis fit well in his space, he was small and didn’t take up much space.

His feet were so small.

“Who is this?” Louis held up a frame. “I wanted to ask before, but we weren’t as comfortable before.”

Harry smiled, “my great grandmother. You’re wearing her bracelet.”

“That’s right! This was given to you.” Louis gasped, staring at the photo, quickly pointing at the little string hanging from her wrist. “Look!”

“Yes.”

“You gave me -Jesus.”

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy?” Harry’s brow rose. “She probably hates you!”

“She’s dead so I don’t think so.” Harry smiled, taking the photo, kissing it before setting it down. “I am sure she would have been very happy to know I gave it to you.”

Louis curled in on himself, shy, “She was Italian too?”

“Yes.”

“Did she speak English?”

“No.” Harry smiled at Louis’ timid eye contact.

“Is your mom alive?”

“Yes, and dad.”

“Do -do they speak English?” Louis’ eyes lit up before Harry could speak. “They do, right? Because you all traveled so much?”

Harry cupped Louis’ fat cheek, eyes soft, “yes.”

Louis swallowed, touching the hand on his face, pulling it down. “Sorry.” Harry moved back and Louis shook his head, “you don’t have to move. Just-”

“Don’t touch your face right now.”

“Face…” Louis copied with an accent. “Yes.” He sniffled, rubbing his wrist awkwardly, “are your parents nice?”

“No.” Harry laughed when Louis looked away. “They are very nice. Welcoming people. My family is very kind.”

“My parents are nice too. They live in Portland. Retirement.” Louis walked to Harry’s fireplace. “Does this work?”

“Of course.”

Louis smiled, “have you ever used it?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Louis pouted, looking at the other photos sitting around. “Liam? And his wife?”

“Yes.” Harry put his hands in his pockets, “That is Liam and Leah.”

Louis pointed at another photo, “their daughter, hopefully, and not your child?”

“That is Angelina. Their child.”

“Phew. Good.”

“Do you not like kids?”

“Oh, I love kids, but I don’t want them.” Louis smiled, “right now or ever.”

“Never?”

“Please don’t tell me you want kids.”

Harry wanted to bite his pouting lips. “That would mean you want us to be together a long time.”

Louis rolled his eyes playfully, walking away. “Do you want them or not, old man?”

Harry followed, hands in his pockets while Louis touched over all his sculptures and knickknacks. “No.”

“What is this?”

“A little cup.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

Louis looked inside the cup, setting it down with a nod. “I like it.” He looked Harry up and down, “you’re gorgeous.”

Harry’s whole face went hot, blinking at the statement. He cleared his throat, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I think you are too.”

Louis smiled, pressing his lips together hard. “Cutie.” The hairdresser went to the kitchen, opening his arms. “I don’t cook enough to be jealous of your kitchen but I am.”

Harry walked around the stove-island, “if you don’t eat, will you at least have dessert?”

“If I don’t?” Louis climbed the stool, holding up a hand, “don’t help me. Stop.”

Harry watched him struggle, stop, before struggling again.

“Did you raise this?”

“No.”

“Son of a.” Louis almost fell, holding onto the island for support. He laughed, throwing his head back, “got it.” He sat, breathing hard, “what a mission.”

Harry watched with heart eyes, “I could have helped.”

“When I need your help, I promise to ask for it.”

Harry smirked, “answer my question.”

“I will have dessert because my sweet tooth is awful.”

“You may hate it.”

“If you’re saying that,” Louis shrugged, “I hate it already.”

Harry chuckled, “It’s chilling right now. Would you like wine?”

“I actually bought wine last night and drank all of it,” Louis lifted his chin proudly. “I would like some.”

“Red or white.”

“I bought red wine last night.”

Harry snorted, “you like red wine?”

“I drink whatever someone gives me. We had red wine when we first met.”

“You swallowed it. I doubt you liked it.”

“I hated it actually.”

“Then why buy it?”

“Um,” Louis pinched his thumb and index fingers together, speaking in a mock Italian accent, “to be fancy.”

Harry grinned, biting his lip, “che bello.”

Louis covered his face, “stop!”

Harry stood up straight, going to the wine cooler, “we will have white.”

“I like white wine.”

“Most people start with it before growing to appreciate red. You like Rosé.”

“You know I do.”

“But tonight, we will have white.”

“Snacks please.” Louis’ smile grew wide when Harry’s eyes did the same. “Please?”

“You said you were full.”

“Snacks don’t count.” Louis batted his lashes, sticking out his tongue when Harry went to his cabinet. He put chips in a bowl for Louis to eat. “What did you cook?”

“It’s still cooking. It’s called Brodetto.”

“Is it fish?”

“A fish stew.” Harry grabbed a wine opener from the jar.

“You know I had to buy a wine opener because I thought I got one that was a twist off. Half the cork was in the bottle. Then,” Louis rolled his eyes, hugging his bowl of chips possessively, “I had to look up if corks can kill you and it turns out it is not toxic, but it is not pleasant either.” He huffed, sticking a chip in his mouth, “I had to go to the store to buy a sifter to sift the cork out of the fucking wine. Holy shit.” He frowned, looking at Harry, “two dollars.”

Harry’s eyebrows creased, “okay.” He rounded the counter, pushing in Louis’ chair. He stood behind the hairdresser, setting the bottle and opener in front of him. “Go on.”

Louis took a deep breath, “I hate that you’re behind me.”

“Do you want me to stand beside you?”

“No…”

Harry kissed his shoulder briefly, “grab the corkscrew.” He helped Louis twist the sharp point into the cork. “You don’t have to get it all the way inside. You want the hooked part to touch the lip of the bottle and then,” Harry smiled, large hand covering Louis’, while they pushed on one side of the tool until the cork started coming up. “Good job. Just wiggle it out.”

Louis did, turning around on the stool. “You are so sweet to me.” He kissed the restaurant owner, pinching Harry’s cheek. “Thank you for showing me.”

Harry kissed him back, dropping the corkscrew on the counter. He licked the corner of Louis’ mouth, “I will show you anything I know.”

Louis grinned, “I want to try a little of the fish stew.”

“Brodetto.”

“I think I can listen to you talk in Italian forever.” He let Harry walk away, turning to the bottle of wine. “Did we let it breathe enough?”

“White wine doesn’t need to breathe. Do you want to pour us glasses?”

“That’s right and yes.” Louis slid off the stool, rubbing his butt when he touched the floor. “Ow. Does the glass matter?” Louis pointed at the clear glass cabinets. “These are okay?”

“The one beside it. Those are for champagne.” Harry set down the small bowl in his hand, walking over to Louis. He grabbed two glasses down, “white wine glasses look smaller.”

“These are different from the ones we used before.”

“Those were for Rosé, they were more fluted at the top.”

Louis shook his head, walking back to the counter, “does it actually matter?”

“I want to say no.” Harry served them each a bowl, Louis’ bowl was much smaller. “I have taken and given many wine classes, so I stick to what I know.”

“It seems expensive and annoying to have so many wine glasses.”

Harry smirked, “it is.” He put the bowl on the place mats with two spoons and two slices of bread. “Do you want help getting back up?”

Louis nodded, “yeah…” He held onto Harry’s hand, knee first onto the stool. “Thank you.” He blinked at the soup, “not just fish?”

“Are you allergic?”

“No. I think I’ve seen this in pictures. What is this?”

“Mussels and clams -crab.”

Louis stirred the hot soup, frowning a little, “I think I like the bread so far.”

“You are supposed to use the bread at the end, to soak up the soup.” Harry ate a bite, “mm, delicious.”

“You make things look better than they are.” Louis blew on his spoon, slurping, “hot.” He licked his lips, “this is very good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Louis slurped again, “hot.” He nodded, “it’s good. Can I take it home?”

“And hide it?”

“No, I can take it to school.”

“Try a clam.”

“I don’t want to.”

Harry laughed, pulling a muscle in half. He scooped up soup in the shell, holding it out to Louis. “provalo, gattino.” _(try it, kitty.)_

“I don’t know what you said but you can say it again.”

“Pro-va-lo. Try it.”

“Pro-valo,” Louis blushed. He put his lips to the muscle, slurping, “soup.”

“You have to eat that little bit of meat. Watch.” Louis watched Harry with rapt attention, smiling when the man pulled the meat from the shell.

“That’s gross but kind of hot.”

“Try it.”

“Give me another one.”

Harry smirked, opening another muscle to offer it to Louis. Louis struggled to eat it, needing to take it from Harry’s hand. He closed one eye, chewing, “interesting but not bad.”

“I love muscles. In Postiano, where I am from, seafood is found everywhere. It is right on the ocean shore.”

“Like the picture out there.”

“Yes.”

“I like seafood. It’s just expensive.”

“Especially here,” Harry agreed. “I have mine imported.”

They spoke about seafood, food in general. They spoke about Louis’ cats and how they kept trying to chew on his bracelet. They talked and talked until Louis’ soup was cold and Harry was full.

“This,” Harry set down a square glass container from the fridge, “is Tiramisu.”

Louis squinted at it, pointing at the top, “is that chocolate?”

“Cocoa powder.”

“I love chocolate,” Louis cooed, biting his lip. He sat up a little straighter, “it looks so good.”

“Well,” Harry grabbed two plates from the cabinet, smiling weakly. “I still have a feeling that you won’t like it.”

“Chocolate and cream, I’ll love it.”

Harry hummed softly, serving them each a plate. “Don’t be shy.”

Louis took a big scoop onto his spoon and Harry smiled, looking away. He laughed into his own spoon full when Louis made a sound of confusion. Harry turned to him slowly, licking his spoon.

Louis’ face was covered in betrayal, “you lied.”

“I never lied. There is cream and chocolate.”

“Yeah, but it’s gross cream and gross chocolate.”

“This is a traditional Italian Tiramisu. The cream is Mascarpone.”

"Mascarpone," Louis copied. "What the heck is that?"

"It's like -uh -like cheese."

"What!"

Harry laughed, "it's not cheese exactly. Well, it is. It's like cream cheese but Italian. Do you like cheesecake? It has cream cheese."

"I hate cream cheese and I hate cheesecake."

"Dio."

Louis was frowning hard, disappointed. He poked the cookie in the middle, “what is this?”

“Lady fingers.”

“What!”

Harry laughed, dropping his spoon on the floor. He scooted back to grab it, “not real fingers.”

“Your tormenting me,” Louis sobbed.

“Try another bite.”

“It tastes like coffee.”

“It is coffee,” the chef laughed.

Louis threw his head back, frowning, “I hate coffee.”

Harry put a hand on Louis’ knee, “try it again.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Bambino,” Harry tugged Louis’ head up, picking up his spoon. He dipped into the cream only, offering some to Louis. “For me.”

Louis sighed softly, eyes softer and bashful. He ate what was on the spoon, shrugging, “why doesn’t the chocolate help at all?”

“It’s cocoa.”

“I love cocoa.” ( _Coco_ )

“No,” Harry stood up, going to his cabinet. He brought back a container and a bar of chocolate. “This,” he held up the bar of chocolate, “is chocolate that you know. It is dark but it has some sugar.” He held up the container, “this is coco-a. It is chocolate powder but pure. It has no sugar.”

“Can I try both?”

“Yes.” Harry grabbed a new spoon, giving it to Louis to try the cocoa while he opened the bar of chocolate. “It’s baking chocolate, so it is not special.”

“Special,” Louis mouthed, holding up a small teaspoon of cocoa. “Looks just like hot cocoa that I make.”

“Cocoa and coco-a are different words.” Harry broke a piece of the bar, “don’t eat too much.”

Louis coughed as soon as it touched his tongue. He groaned loud, chugging his glass of wine. Harry took the bottle before he could grab it too. “What the fuck.” Harry laughed, holding out the piece of chocolate that Louis scarfed down. He pinched his fingers together, chewing, “I hate it. Why is it,” he coughed, taking Harry’s glass of wine instead.

Louis gasped, sticking out his tongue that was still covered in powder. Harry didn’t care one way or the other, he stared hard at it.

“You are trying to poison me. I thought you liked me.”

Harry went around the counter with a small towel, wiping Louis’ mouth. He smiled, “I do, very much. I told you not too much.”

“It was a teaspoon.”

“It is all over your teeth.”

Louis started sobbing again, “now my teeth look gross.”

Harry kissed him a little harder than usual, quickly putting a hand at Louis’ back to not knock him off the stool. He parted Louis’ lips with his tongue, licking across his teeth, tasting the tiramisu -tasting Louis. Harry could only agree that everything tasted better with chocolate, including Louis.

Harry loved that Louis only shied away to blush or laugh sweetly against his mouth, but never to slow down.

Louis grabbed Harry’s button down, tried tugging it out of his pants weakly. He put a hand around the base of his neck, feeling they hair there, moaning softly about ‘ _how soft’_ Harry’s hair was. Louis bit his lip, moaning a little louder when Harry’s hand moved up his back to pull at Louis’ hair.

“How soft,” Harry whispered back. He groaned, stepping as close as he could, eyes fluttering when Louis spread his knees to let him in. Harry stopped kissing him to watch his large hand run up Louis’ sweet thigh, “we should-”

“Not before we start dating,” Louis panted despite trying to kiss him more.

“I was going to say stop,” Harry grinned. The chef squeezed the little meat on Louis’ leg, leaving parting kisses on Louis’ cheeks. He stroked the hairdresser’s hair back, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Was that okay?”

Louis’ eyes pulled up from Harry’s bulge, lips covered in a sheen of spit. He smiled small, warm in the cheeks, “very.” The student bit his lip, knees coming in tight to block Harry in, “are you,” he looked away for a moment, “big down there?”

Harry pressed his lips together to not laugh, “I would say average.”

Louis glanced back down then up, “doesn’t look average.”

Harry smirked, coming closer to press their lips together, “I can be larger than average for you.”

Louis moaned softly, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck to kiss him again.

-

“Aw!” Louis squealed at the picture on Harry’s phone, pointing at it excitedly. “It’s me!”

Harry rubbed his cheek, shying away to put the bottle of wine in the recycling. “Yeah…”

“Baby,” Louis slid up next to him, showing his phone. Harry was his screen, greys and all. “Look! I always have my cats as my screen, but I loved your photo so much that I put it!”

Harry was surprised but happy. He grabbed Louis’ phone, staring at himself until the screen went black. “I look old.”

“What?” Louis quickly took his phone back, glaring. “You look gorgeous. I love this photo.”

Harry rubbed his neck, “okay.”

Louis kissed Harry’s shoulder, hugging his phone. “Are you the type to look through your partner’s phone?”

“No.”

Louis made a face, “I am.”

“Because you lack trust?”

“Yes and no. I just like knowing what you like. Phones tell no lies.”

“The passcode is 0105. It’s the day Angie was born.”

Louis grinned, quickly unlocking it.

Harry washed dishes, taking his time while Louis went through his phone. He answered questions the man had, needing to stop to look at a picture every now and again. Eventually Louis had enough looking and came to help him dry.

It was a comfortable silence for a while. Louis asked about his mother, asked about his father.

“They have been married for fifty years.”

“Wow.”

“They are wonderful people.”

Louis smiled, “I can tell.”

They spoke about Louis’ alcohol tolerance.

“You can drink a lot.”

“Oh yeah, plenty of nights alone with my cats, nothing to do. I can drink.”

“My mother will like you.”

They spoke about cats.

“I want you to feed cats with me.”

“Where do you feed them?”

“I can’t feed the ones in my apartment, they tried kicking me out. I go behind this bank that has a lot of them. Sometimes I sit there, taking the ones that look sick to shelters.”

“Do you ever get scratched?”

Louis snorted, “not lately but yes. Always.”

They talked about Louis’ psoriasis.

“It’s been so bad lately.”

“What makes it flare up?”

“Spicy foods, dairy, acidic foods -dust.”

“You just had dairy.”

“Trust me, Harry. Until I get medicine, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to stop eating a gallon of ice cream because my skin itches.”

Harry grabbed his wrist and kissed it ten times. “Do you want some lotion?”

Louis sighed softly, “no.” He was smiling sadly, “thank you for not being scared of it.”

“Thank you for not hating my greys.”

Louis kissed him, “I know I said to tell me if you want to dye it, but I don’t ever want you to.” He touched Harry’s hair. “Beautiful man. You are so handsome.”

Louis begged to see his bedroom.

“Here it is.”

Louis ran around the bed, “lucky! It’s freaking huge!”

Harry leaned against the door frame, watching Louis look around. He never wanted someone so much in his entire life. If Louis got away, Harry would never look for love again.

“Who is this?”

“My mother.”

“Wow,” Louis frowned, “she’s beautiful.”

Harry dipped his head, “thank you. She has been asking for pictures of you.”

“I will send you some.” Louis winked, “you can pick which ones you want to send her.” Louis set the photo down, walking to the closet. He opened it, closing it, “damn, we’re different.” He spun around, “we are like Johnny and Baby!”

“Who?”

“Johnny and Baby! Dirty Dancing! We shouldn’t be together because we’re from too different places! No, we don’t dance -wait.” Louis squinted, “do you dance?”

“Of course. I’m Italian.”

“A stereotype!”

“I never said I was good.”

“Hm.” Louis pointed two finger at his eyes then at Harry. “Anyway,” he started again, “no one wants us together.”

“Who said that?”

“I’m just -it’s just a comparison.”

“My name,” Harry came closer, wrapping his arms around Louis. “Is not Johnny.”

Louis blew on Harry lips when he kissed him, making a small farting noise. “I know it’s not, loser. Man, you’re that guy.”

“I am.” Harry kissed the side of Louis’ neck, blowing raspberries on it, making the man laugh. “My baby is right here.”

Louis hugged Harry tight, “man, do I like you.” He poked at Harry’s dimple, “we both have dimples.”

“A similarity.”

Harry caught a wave of bravery and put a slack hand on Louis’ ass, cupping it gently. Louis bit at Harry’s lip playfully, kissing him. “What had you thinking about how different we are? What’s in my closet?”

“Ironed clothes and clothes in bags.”

“My dry cleaning?”

“No one dry cleans their clothes unless they have their life together!”

Harry smirked, “I guess.”

“I want to see you angry.”

“No, you don’t.”

Louis looked from eye to eye, smile pulling up on one side to show his dimple. “That was fast.”

“I am not nice when I’m mad.”

“I doubt anyone is.”

“I am a good chef and boss, not a nice one.”

“You aren’t my boss.” Louis pursed his lips, “I want to see you mad, but I don’t want to be the one to get you mad. You always show me little looks into you, but I never get to see all of it.”

“This is me, but I try really hard for you. I really want to be with you, and we are different.” Harry swayed them softly, “you smile a lot. You don’t seem to let things bother you for too long. You don’t seem to get angry often. I curse more than you can even imagine.”

“In English and Italian?”

Harry sighed a smile, “yeah.”

“What if I asked you to stop smoking?”

Harry thought about it, finding the answer too quickly. “I would do my best to stop.”

Louis touched Harry’s ear, stroking it with light touches. “I like you. I don’t want you smoking.”

Harry took a deep breath, “okay.”

“We aren’t dating.”

“Yet.”

Louis nodded, “yet. You don’t have to give up anything.”

“I’ve been smoking since I was very young. It’s going to be hard.”

“I’ll help you.” Louis stepped back, hands at his sides. “Harry, would you go out with me?”

Harry swallowed, hands fisting at his sides. “Yes.”

Louis smiled sweetly, “in Italian?”

“Sì.”

“Sì.”


	7. Fettuccine burro e parmigiano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the readers who correct my Italian! Thank you!

“Good morning, baby,” Louis yawned into the phone.

Harry smiled, not turning on his car just yet. Hearing Louis’ tired voice so early in the morning, calling him baby, it did things to him and his tired bones.

“Buongiorno, prezioso. You sound so tired.” _(Good morning, precious.)_

Louis groaned softly, sheets rustling against the phone. “It’s too early for you to talk to me so sweetly, man. It makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling this early.”

Harry dropped his head against his car seat, finally turning on the engine. “Beautiful.”

“Where are you?”

“Leaving my house now, amore. I wasn’t going to call but I know you wanted me to.”

“I want to be awake with you.”

Harry smiled softly, putting on his seatbelt before pulling out of his driveway. “You can sleep.”

“It is Monday. Am I seeing you?”

Harry grinned, “we said were going to see each other.”

“So, you can come over for lunch?”

“As much as it is going to stress me out, yes.”

“You work too much.”

“I fucking do,” Harry mumbled. “I always have.”

“Can we go in your car? I’ll wait downstairs at the station.”

“Of course, tesorino.” _(Little treasure)_

“You are being so sweet,” Louis rasped. “Keep talking in Italian.”

“But you will not be able to understand me.”

“Hm, that is true.” Louis shuffled on the phone, “now the cats are awake. -It is too early. No food right now. Look at what you’ve done, Harry.”

Harry laughed, “what? You asked me to call you.”

“Harry -hold on. I’m getting up from bed. -Harry. Is it weird that I don’t know what to do once we’re together?” Harry made a confused noise, and Louis continued. “Now that we’re dating -how? Hm. I feel like the first month of dating is the worst because you don’t know boundaries. I don’t know what you hate out of a partner. We like each other now but what if we realize that one of us is super clingy and annoying and makes the other call them early in the morning even though it wakes up their cats.”

“Clingy.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I like clingy.”

Louis laughed tiredly, “Harry.”

“I understand, but that is also the importance of the ‘first month’. Learning pet peeves. We are not living together now. We are dating and I can say that I am very happy, and it has not even been a day. In saying that, I have been happy being with you since before yesterday. I also believe we know a lot more about one another than most people.”

“I guess. I did tell you the worst parts of me.”

“That I ignored,” Harry bristled. “Let me choose that and you can choose mine.”

“I really want to see you today. Promise me.”

“I promise we will see each other today.”

“You’ll come to my place?”

“Yes, baby.” Harry parked at his usual empty spot at the train station, unbuckling. “I just got to the train. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“Please? Until you get to work.”

“Gattino dolce.”

-

Harry shook the hand of the man in front of him, “Drey, please sit.”

“Thank you, thank you.” The man sat, running his hands up and down his pants nervously.

“How are you this morning?”

“Good, sir, good. How are you?”

“Very well.” Harry didn’t hate interviews, but he hated that he forgot he had three to do this morning. The business was growing which meant he needed extra workers, it was inevitable. “You are Frankie’s friend, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

Harry folded his hands, “what experience do you have in a kitchen?”

“I have been washing dishes since my momma had me,” Drey smiled. “I started working at our small little family restaurant when I was thirteen. It was a mom and pop shop in Detroit. It got robbed one day and my parents had to let it go. After that, once I turned seventeen, I worked in all kinds of restaurants. Fancy ones like this, fast food, basic ones.”

Harry nodded, patient, knowing he was nervous. “And did you just do dishes?”

“Oh, yeah, you asked,” Drey chuckled. “Sorry. I worked in the kitchen with Frankie for a while. I know how to work a deep fryer better than one. I can work with all kinds of seafood. Frankie told me ya’ll were looking for a -someone that can work with seafood. My parents ran a seafood shop. I can cut, gut and cook any fish.”

Harry wrote something down, “good. So, you are friends with Frankie.”

“Yes sir.”

“I love Frankie,” Harry smiled, setting his pen down. “One of my best guys. Respectful, respectable, and an amazing pâtissier.”

“Yeah, he’s my best friend. We got incarcerated together, being stupid kids. It’s one reason I applied. Because he says you hire people like me. People who have a past.”

“Behind you now?”

“Oh, most definitely. You just,” Drey pressed his lips together, “just had to survive back then.”

“Well then let’s not worry about back then. Right now matters. Let me tell you a little about my work ethic and then you can decide if this is for you.”

“Yes sir.”

“I was born in Italy. I trained with some of the most ruthless chefs on the planet. I do have a temper. This is a kitchen and it gets very hot. Mistakes are okay at first but once you have your foot in, it is in. When we are in my kitchen, I am not your friend, I am not your buddy. I am your chef and your boss.”

Drey nodded seriously, “yes sir.”

“I will set you up with my cousin, Liam. He is head chef when I am not here. He will see your skill and see if you qualify.”

“Yes sir.”

“Today is fine?”

“Oh? Yeah.” Drey sat up, “yes.”

“Perfect.” Harry stood, motioning Drey to follow. He walked him through the kitchen to Liam who was watching one of the interviewees frost a cake with a timer in his hand.

“Hm?” Liam didn’t stop watching her, eyes sharp on her hands.

“This is Liam. Liam this is Drey.”

“Stop,” Liam called, writing the time and a note on his clip board. “Give me a moment.” He looked at his cousin and the man, holding out a hand. “Hello, I’m Liam.”

“Drey, nice to meet you.”

Harry touched his pocket when he felt it buzz. “Go over poissonnier with him.” _(Fish chef)_

“Yes chef.”

Harry turned to Drey, shaking his hand again. “If all goes well, we will see each other again.”

“Sounds great,” Drey smiled. “Frankie told me you take your job very seriously. I respect that very much.”

Harry patted his shoulder with a smile, “I hope to see you on my team very soon, Drey.”

“Thank you -chef.”

Harry grinned, walking away, pulling his phone from his pocket. He opened the picture from Louis, surprised to see his bare legs surrounded by cats. Legs that Harry zoomed in on to stare at the small muscle. He stared at the small red patches, wanting to kiss all the skin from the tip of Louis’ small toes to the top of his leg.

Harry wanted more phones so he could have Louis as his wallpaper on all of them.

_‘Class was canceled.’_

Harry would call him in a moment, first he added a few more notes to Drey’s application, hoping the man did good on his test. Normally it was preferred to have a degree to apply to a restaurant as a professional chef. Harry knew many incredible chefs, such as his great grandmother, who could never afford school, but the talent was there.

Harry didn’t turn down people who could cook because they didn’t go to school. Was it a plus if they did? Sure. But not a requirement. So long as they were willing to learn, Harry loved to teach.

So he created a test for people who applied. If Drey could cut, gut and cook, he would have the opportunity to show off his skill. The terminology would eventually be learned. Harry needed urgency and organization.

He dialed his father first.

“Ciao.”

“Pa,” Harry smiled, opening his laptop, logging into his email. “How are you, pa?”

“Good, Harry. Come stai?”

“Good pa, grazie per avermelo chiesto. I am doing payroll.” _(thank you for asking)_

“Per _Aurora_?” _(For Aurora?)_

“No, for Delizioso. I wanted to check in on you and mamma.”

His father laughed, “but your mother would never get off the phone.”

“Esattamente.”

“We are fine, son. Il tempo è stato fantastico oggi and I am not dead. How can I complain?” _(The weather is great today)_

Harry smirked, “good to hear. How is the family?” Harry checked the punch-in and out times.

“Everyone is doing very well. We are having guests tonight. Natasha e i suoi figli.” _(Natasha and her children)_

“Oh, come stai Natasha?”

“She is a lot better now. Un po 'triste but better. Your mother has been keeping her lots of company. You know her, she would move all of Italy into our home in she could.” _(A little sad)_

Harry chuckled, looking at his phone when it beeped, showing Louis was calling. “Yeah. I will call her tomorrow.”

“And what about this man your mother told me about? Louis?”

“Dio, mamma is too much.”

“She remembers everything, Harry. Do not tell her something you do not want everyone to know.”

Harry sighed, “he is good. Calling me.”

“Go, answer. Call me later and we may talk about him if you wish.”

“I do not, pa.”

“Then do not.”

Harry smirked, “Cosa mangerete a pranzo?” _(What will you eat for lunch?)_

“Only the best restaurant in Italy. Aurora.”

Harry laughed warmly, “I love you, pa.”

“Call your friend back then. I will hear from you soon.”

Harry swallowed, “Pa.” He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “His name is Louis and he is my boyfriend. We only started dating yesterday. He is very nice and beautiful. He has my bisnonna Aurora’s bracelet.” _(great-grandmother)_

“Oh?”

“Si.” Harry groaned, “I like him a lot.”

“I can tell.”

“I have to go.”

“You do not have to run from me, Harry, I am not your mother.”

Harry laughed, “Baci, pa. Give mamma kisses too.” _(kisses)_

“I will because, if I do not, she will kill me before I can have lunch.”

“Muah,” Harry hung up, calling Louis back. He put the phone on speaker, scooting his chair in. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hey, gattino.” Harry typed in his password for his email. “How are you, beautiful?”

“Good. How are you?”

“Good, baby. Thank you. What happened with class?”

“I think my teacher is sick. He kept blowing his nose last class, so he canceled it. I still have homework, but I finished it.”

“Good, amore. What are you doing? Have you eaten?”

“I’ve been playing with my kitties all morning. Right now I’m watching Dirty Dancing. It’s the part where she’s embrassing herself on stage! Let me look away. Do better!” Louis huffed into the receiver, “I was going to go back to sleep because my boyfriend called me at five in the morning.”

Harry smirked, “your boyfriend’s boyfriend must have told him to.”

“But I didn’t go back to sleep,” Louis continued. “Because I would really love to have lunch with my boyfriend and take a nap with him.”

“I don’t take naps, amore.”

“Come on! I’m staying up for you.”

“I will lay down with you. Answer my earlier question.”

“What question?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I had drive-thru breakfast.”

“That,” Harry’s jaw cracked, “okay.”

“Food is food.”

“Not all food is the same kind of food.”

“I had hash browns and hash browns are potatoes, and potatoes come from the ground and the ground is good.”

“And then they add preservatives and deep fry it and then it goes is your stomach and makes you sick.”

“Ugh. Okay, doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor but I studied nutrition in school for many years.”

“I didn’t want to eat cereal!”

“Cereal is not any better, Louis. Have eggs, toast, something hearty.”

“I like potatoes.”

“You like starch, which is funny, seeing as you gain no weight from it.”

“I know. I think my body is against me.”

“We will change your eating habits, just wait.”

“Baby,” Louis whined. “Can we not talk about this?”

Harry finished typing before answering, “and talk about what?”

“About what you did this morning.”

“I forgot I had interviews to do. I am doing payroll and I just got off the phone with my father. I still have to make phone calls to Italy and I’m sending a few emails.”

“Busy man,” Louis mumbled. “Call me later then.”

“I will call you before I leave to get you.”

“So sweet. I’ve been dying to ride in your very expensive car. Technically you don’t have to pick me up, because I’m home already, but I want to ride in your car.”

Harry laughed, looking up when Liam came in. He took the phone off speaker, “okay, Louis. I’ll call you.”

“Bye!”

“Bye, sweetheart.” He hung up, putting the phone down. Harry looked at his cousin, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“Oi, I said nothing.” Liam sat. “Staff is filling in.”

“I’ll come to say good morning in a moment. Did you tell them I made the quiches?”

“Yes,” Liam smirked. “They all ran for it.”

Harry smiled, “how were they?”

“Drey was very good.”

“Good. I want to keep him. And Heather?”

“Good,” Liam tilted his head, “I always feel a little harsher on the pâtissier.”

“You should. We will be building on our pastries soon. August starts tomorrow and Fall starts in September here. I want a brand-new menu with brand-new pastries. I want higher quality like we do back at home. I’m emailing Ely to send me copies of recipes. Hopefully it appeals to the demographics palate.” Liam nodded. “I am closing both restaurants for August.”

“You think that is best?”

“I know. I want to leave one open, but it is fine. I just want to open back up with a new menu there as well.” He squeezed his eyes shut, cracking his wrist, “I have to call so many people. I may have to fly there for a week.”

“Well, I am here so focus on your menus and phone calls and emails. You do not need to be here every day, cugino.”

“I know but this is new, Liam. We are doing very well, and I do not know why.”

“How many Italian places do you see in the area?”

“Still. It seems so sudden. I do not want to let my guard down.” Harry rubbed his forehead, “I have to go say good morning.” He stood up, “are you okay, Liam?”

“Of course. When am I not? Are you?”

“Yes.” Harry kissed his cousin’s temple. “I am making cupcakes for Angie this Wednesday even though I am sure you know how.”

“I think it’s best-”

“Stupido.”

Liam laughed, shoving him, “how is Louis?”

“Fine. We are dating.”

“Che cosa!” Liam stood in front of the door, “quando?” _(what! When?)_

“Ieri.” _(yesterday)_

“Bugiardo.” _(Liar)_

“No. He asked me yesterday.”

“You did not ask?”

“Liam-”

“I knew he would ask first.” Liam smacked Harry’s chest playfully, “I love that, Harry. You are finally enjoying your life. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

“Sei fastidioso.” _(You’re annoying)_

-

Harry stepped out of the car when he saw Louis start to stand up.

Untied laces and all.

He lifted the sunglasses over his head, praying that the gum in his mouth and cologne on his skin would hide the fact that he smoked a cigarette before he left.

If he hadn’t made such stressful phone calls all morning, then maybe he wouldn’t have had to smoke. If he hadn’t written over thirty emails, one being to the makers of his gelato machine that wanted to overheat during rushes, maybe he wouldn’t have had to smoke.

Maybe.

“Hi baby.” Louis hugged him, tip toeing to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck.

Harry kissed the side of Louis’ neck, running his hands up his back. “Ciao amore.”

“Ciao?” Louis pulled away, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, “doesn’t ciao mean bye?”

“Hello and bye.”

The hairdresser grinned, “you smell like smoke.”

“Cazzo…” Harry mumbled, rubbing his neck. “I was stressed.”

“Are you always stressed?”

“Mostly.”

“Are you stressed right now?”

“No. You reduce my stress very much.”

Louis smiled, using his shoe to scratch at his ankle. “It’s okay. Just keep trying your best, okay? Just because I say it’s okay right now doesn’t mean you should stop trying.”

“Okay, amore.”

Louis pinched Harry’s nose softly, “missed you, old man.”

Harry pulled Louis by his wrist, hand surrounding his thin bracelet. “Come closer.” He kissed the short hairdresser softly, running a thumb across Louis’ chin. “You’re too far.”

Louis laughed, letting Harry kiss around different parts of his face. He held Harry by the bottom of his tucked in shirt, tugging. “Do you always tuck it in?”

“Always,” The chef mouthed at Louis’ bottom lip, grateful to finally feel like he could do more than just stare at Louis’ pretty pink lips.

Louis mouthed back, “we’re being those people again.”

“I don’t care who watches me kiss you.” Harry smiled at the slight blush across Louis’ creased nose. He kissed the man’s cheek hard once more, “are you ready?” He looked down at Louis’ shoes when he nodded. “Would you like me to tie your shoes?”

Louis laughed, dimples poking in, “no!” He kicked up his foot, struggling to scratch wrist with his bag falling down his arm. “Baby, I like my shoes untied.”

“You are going to fall, gattino. Tie them, baby.”

Louis lifted his nose to the air defiantly, “no.”

Harry shook his head, grabbing Louis’ bag, “I will not force you.”

“Good, because you couldn’t if you tried.” Louis brushed his fingers over Harry’s hand, skipping towards the car. “Man look at this. The first time I saw it, I was shocked.”

“It is not that expensive.”

“Expensive,” Louis copied. “More expensive than my little car.” He peered inside the window, smiling wide, “leather seats are expensive.”

“Your car is worth much more with all your cat stickers covering the back bumper.”

Louis giggled when the door unlocked, shaking with excitement. He opened the door, sliding inside, “ooh. This is nice.” He squirmed in the chair, “cold, like your house.”

Harry closed the back door after setting Louis’ bag down. He lowered the air once he was inside, putting a hand on the gear shift. “Where are we going first? I brought lunch.”

“I ate already.”

“Hash browns. You wanted to have lunch.”

“No! I had the soup I was supposed to take for lunch.” He scoffed, “I even finished the biscotti.”

“You kept them?” Harry shook his head, “we are having lunch.”

“Fine.” Louis sighed, sigh turning into a groan. “What is it?”

“Something new.”

“Ugh.” The student looked out the window, “we have to go to the bank first. I brought cat food.”

Harry looked at the back up camera briefly before putting his arm behind the passenger chair to look in the rear-view window. He backed up, switching into drive before pulling out of the station parking garage.

“Is it weird that I find your driving a turn on?” Louis put his hands between his skinny thighs, “and I like that you drive fast.”

Harry looked at Louis twice, smirking, “no sweetheart.”

Louis hummed, smiling wide, “I hope our relationship lasts a long time. I know I’m thinking too far ahead but I don’t think I smile so much with anyone.” He quickly put on his seatbelt, “sorry.” Louis rubbed his knees with his red wrist, careful of his bracelet. “You know, you were mean to me when we first met?”

“Mean?”

“Yeah.” The hairdresser, unbuckled his seat belt, reaching to the backseat to grab his bag. He put his seatbelt back on before reaching into his bag. “Need my cream. -Take a left.”

Harry waited patiently, switching lanes, glancing at Louis putting cream on his dry wrist and under the ripped parts of his jeans.

“You didn’t want to talk to me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Because you were trying to give me a cat.”

“Do you think,” Louis dropped his bag between his feet. “That we will be together for a long time?”

“I hope so.”

“Do you think me asking that is me being pushy?”

“No. You’re just curious.”

Louis nodded, “get in the right lane, please.” He played with the thin rips on his jeans, “If we are together a long time, what happens to my cats?”

Harry drummed his fingers against the gear shift, shrugging slightly, “We would eventually move in together, I assume. I would have to get used to cat hair.” The chef smiled when Louis laid his head on his arm.

“You are such a sweetheart, Harry.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Louis rubbed his thumb against the top of Harry’s strong hand. “After we feed the cats at the bank, can we go back to my place?”

“And watch Dirty Dancing?”

“Please.”

Harry smiled, dropping the shades on his head over his eyes. “I would like that.”

Louis moved his hand away, rubbing his eye. “What did you bring?”

“You don’t want me to surprise you?”

“Yeah, I do actually. Never mind.” Louis touched the leather seat. “You are making the cupcakes for your goddaughter today?”

“I may or Tuesday. I can freeze them if anything.”

“Ew.”

Harry chuckled, “It is normal to do.”

Louis bit at the skin on his thumb, “can you make me some?”

“Of course, my love.”

The hairdresser preened, putting his hand back on Harry’s. “I bought a lot of wine.”

“A lot of wine?”

“Yeah. I opened two yesterday just to open them because I know how now.” Louis grinned wide, “we can finish them today.”

“Do you drink every night?”

“I think so,” Louis mumbled, thinking. “I’m pretty sure I have a beer every night. I don’t have to, but it makes me feel less lonely.” He smiled softly at Harry, “I don’t feel as lonely now so maybe I won’t have a beer every night. -It’s the bank right there, baby.”

“I will make sure you never feel lonely again.” Harry turned into the bank, kissing Louis quickly before pulling ahead. “Where?”

“Go through the drive thru part then park off to the side.” Louis unbuckled his seat belt, leaning over to kiss Harry’s cheek. He grabbed the man’s face, pulling at his cheeks, kissing the chef again. “I am so lucky, aren’t I?”

Harry undid his seat belt as well, humming, “aren’t I?”

Louis smiled pretty, “yeah you are. I am a very good boyfriend.”

“I can already tell.” Harry made a soft noise while kissing Louis, running his fingers through his soft hair. He pressed a thumb to Louis’ eye, “my poor gattino. So tired all the time.”

Louis sighed, practically in Harry’s lap. “Nap with me.”

“I will try.”

“Thank you.” He kissed his boyfriend once more before moving back to the passenger seat. Louis took a deep breath, “I am so excited. I have never fed the cats with anyone before.”

“That makes me very happy.” Harry slid out of his car, leaving his sunglasses behind. He stretched his muscles, looking around the empty area. “Where are they?”

“Hiding. They don’t know your car but,” Louis threw his bag back in the back seat, holding up the bag of cat food. “They know this.” He shook it aggressively, smiling bright when several cats came crawling and running out of the bushes.

“Oh wow.” Harry made a face, pocketing his keys. He followed Louis towards the animals, sticking his hands in his pockets. “There are a lot.”

“Yeah,” Louis sat on the floor and Harry shook his head.

“On the floor, papa?”

Louis looked back, odd smile on his face, “pa-pa? Like dad?”

“Yes and no.” Harry squatted beside him, “papa. Say it faster.”

“Papa.” Louis rubbed the top of one of the cat’s head, eyes cast down. “Papa… weird, but sweet.”

Harry kissed Louis’ temple, “show me how you feed them.”

Louis quickly opened the bag, focused on the cats now. He took a small scooper from the bag, pouring the food in little piles on the floor. “I make sure I put it on the side so cars won’t hit them.” He cooed at a smaller cat that approached. “I don’t see kittens often.” He looked at Harry, smile faltering, “what?”

Harry didn’t think he was looking at Louis so intensely, but he supposed he was by the expression on Louis’ face.

He just didn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful when they smiled. Louis never stopped smiling and, if he ever did, it may break Harry’s heart. The sun was the hairdresser’s best friend. Louis absorbed it, he reflected it. His eyes caught the sun and swallowed it, leaving behind the brightest blue and smallest flicks of yellow.

And that mouth.

Louis’ soft wet lips were blinding against the warm sun. Even now, when his brows creased, when his teeth caught nervously on his glistening bottom lip. Harry wanted to kiss him; he could kiss him. He wanted to put bruises across Louis’ neck with his teeth, wanted Louis’ mouth on different parts of him.

Harry wanted to see that mouth do things-

The weather was changing. Autumn was coming to Michigan. The leaves were falling and close to changing color. Louis was apart of the Fall energy. Him along with the ten plus cats that curled around him, purred against his jeans, willing to ignore the food to just cuddle with the man.

Some bit at his shoelaces.

It was a sight.

Harry was starting to realize that Louis was a sight to see in many places. In his restaurant under the glow of the warm hanging lights. In his home when the sun was high in the sky. In his home when it was dim, when Harry’s orange lighting was the only light there was. And now, in the open air, coated by sun rays while he sat on the floor in a bank parking lot.

Louis was drop-dead- _gorgeous_.

He suddenly had the urge to call his mother. Tell her everything there was to say about Louis.

“Baby,” Louis spoke a little softly, dropping another scoop of food. He rolled up the bag, sitting up on his knees. He grabbed Harry’s elbow, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, amore. You are just so -special.” Harry cupped Louis’ face, “you are so beautiful, it left me speechless. I wish I always carried around a mirror so you could see yourself when you look at me.”

“Aw! Stop!” Louis held out his hands, “Don’t say those things to me!” The words didn’t match Louis’ face. The hairdresser was smiling big, covering his mouth when he started laughing. “You are so nice.”

Harry kissed him, wanting to bite harder at Louis’ lips. He only nibbled, careful of his teeth, “I love kissing you. I love your mouth.”

Louis’ face was burning a dark red underneath his skin. He moved away, groaning, tugging softly at the string on his wrist. “You’re so wonderful. I am so glad we see each other the same way. You are just better at saying it…” Louis looked down at the cat that passed between them. “You are going to be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know it. I promise, to you, that I will do anything to make this relationship succeed. I want you as much as you want me.” Louis smiled, “my baby. I can’t wait until we are past the ‘beginning’ stage. We are happy now and it’s going to get so much better.” He kissed Harry’s fingertips, “the day I wake up with you will be the day I know I am in love with you and I can’t wait.”

Harry swallowed, clearing his throat, feeling a weird sensation behind his eyes. He didn’t cry. He didn’t know if Louis cried but he didn’t cry. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried. But then there was an itchy feeling in his throat and a burning behind his eyes.

He was grateful that no tears fell. He was grateful for the loud meowing.

He was grateful for Louis’ lips against his, whispering how beautiful Harry’s greys looked. His boyfriend whispered several sweet _somethings_ against his mouth.

“Let’s feed them for a little longer, okay?”

“As long as you want.”

-

“Hello everyone. Look who’s here.” Louis kicked off his shoes, just like he did at Harry’s. He picked up two cats at once, kissing them before putting them down. “Do you remember their names?”

“Of course.”

“Say them.”

“That is Sheela. That is Scissors, Marco. Uh,” Harry trailed the cats that fled after Louis, “Coconut and Peppermint.” He pointed at the last one, “I’m pretty sure that is Knuckles.”

“Wow,” Louis put his hands on his hips, “I’m impressed.” He went to the kitchen and Harry followed along with the cats. “I have to feed Peppermint.”

The chef put down the container that held their food. “Peppermint is the youngest one?”

“Yep.” Louis grabbed a bottle from his cabinet. “She doesn’t like eating from the bowl from some reason, so the vet said it’s best that I bottle feed her.” Louis squatted, “isn’t that right, darling?” He picked up Peppermint, kissing her. “I think they kept her with a dog, and he would bite her or something.”

“That is awful.”

“I know,” Louis sighed softly, petting over the meowing cat’s scar. “Aw, you know it’s your time to eat.” Louis set her down, moving around to make her bottle. “Sorry, it’ll just take a moment.”

“Take your time.” Harry looked around Louis’ kitchen. “I’m going to be changing my menu soon. To compliment the Autumn season.”

“I love Autumn. I always thought Winter was my favorite but it’s Autumn.”

“I think I will incorporate squash.”

“Yuck.” Louis grimaced, “I hate that.”

“When is the last time you had it?”

“Never and I never will.”

“Pumpkin?”

“Yuck.”

“Dio.” Harry looked down at Coconut when he slipped through his legs, rubbing against his leather shoes. “What should I make then?”

“Mm,” Louis pondered, “something with rice.”

“I make Italian food.”

“You only know how to cook Italian food?”

Harry looked at his boyfriend, raising a brow, “I can cook all kinds of food.”

Louis smiled slowly, shaking the bottle in his hand, “you’re so sexy.”

Harry huffed, smiling, “why do you say that?”

“I don’t know!” Louis laughed, “sometimes you say things that make my knees weak.” He reached down to grab Peppermint, carrying her like a baby before pressing the bottle to her mouth. “I’ll look up some food and you can make that.”

“I make my own recipes.”

“Well they have to come from somewhere.” He walked out of the kitchen, sitting on his bright red couch. “Sit, baby. Be comfortable.”

Harry removed his shoes, walking them to the front door. He fixed Louis scuffed up shoes, staring at them side by side. He smiled, turning one of Louis’ shoes at an odd angle before walking back to the living room. Harry sat beside Louis, watching him feed the cat. “Have you done your advent calendar today?”

“You know I haven’t,” Louis grinned. “I knew you were coming so I waited.” He took the bottle from Peppermint’s mouth, letting her lick her mouth before putting it back. “Do you want to pick it out?”

“When you’re done.”

“Would you let me brush your hair one day? Could I style it?”

“No dye?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that anymore.”

Harry smiled, “of course, baby.”

Louis nodded, “thank you.”

Harry looked out the window, “I may have to travel to Italy next month.”

Louis made a noise, face scrunched up, “why?”

“Since I am changing the menus, I will need to change the ones there too. I will be shutting down my restaurants for the month of August.”

“Why?”

“Summer in Italy is very popular for tourists but many people that live there go on vacation so many businesses close. I did not close last year but this year I will. It will give me time to come out with new menu items. Fall begins here the same time as Italy.”

“Why not make a universal menu.” Louis kissed Peppermint’s scar before setting her down. “Isn’t that easier?”

“When you open a restaurant, you have to learn the demographic around you. Learn what they eat. I challenged some tastes when I made my menu for Delizioso and it worked in my favor. In Italy they do not eat the same as here. Fruits and vegetables are not in season sometimes.”

Louis folded his legs, thinking, “is that why you smoked?”

“Yes,” Harry frowned. “I just have a lot to do. Making recipes take time and trial.”

“I can help.”

Harry smiled, grabbing Louis’ hand, “thank you, baby. I would love your help.”

Louis scooted closer, fixing Harry’s hair. “I like chocolate. Could you make a hot chocolate something?”

Harry considered it. “Sounds like something for Winter.”

“Winter and Fall are like sisters. You can roll it into Winter.” Louis rubbed his side, “You can make a cold hot chocolate gelato in Winter and a smores gelato for Fall.”

“Smores are delicious.”

Louis grinned, kissing his boyfriend, “I will keep thinking so I can help you. Until then,” He pulled Harry’s hand, “what food did you bring?”

“You said you were not hungry.”

“Baby,” Louis complained, tugging at Harry’s wrist. “Show me so we can open a calendar.”

“I have to reheat it. Put on the movie.”

“Fine,” Louis turned around and Harry daringly smacked his butt. The man spun around, “hey.” He tackled Harry to the couch, kissing him hard. “Don’t smack my butt!”

Harry laughed, kissing Louis back, “it looked really nice when you turned around.”

“That’s where all my fat goes.” The hairdresser stuck out his tongue. “You can touch my butt whenever you want to, as long as I can do the same.”

“Whenever.”

“Deal.” Louis kissed Harry’s chest before getting off him. “Handsome man.”

Harry smiled, watching Louis bend over in front of the TV. “Don’t tease me, papa.”

Louis looked over his shoulder, winking, “it doesn’t have to be a tease.”

Harry pressed his tongue to his cheek, slowly sitting up. “No?”

“No,” Louis smirked.

Harry ran at Louis from behind when he turned around, lifting him up. Louis screamed and laughed when Harry carried him back to the couch. The chef crowded Louis, kissing all the laughs that fell from his mouth.

-

“Mm!” Louis covered his mouth, feet running in place. “Fettucine Alfredo! Finally!” He sat down at the small table. “I’ve been telling my neighbors about you when I see them. I showed them the photo of our breakfast and they said I was lucky but,” Louis pointed excitedly at the pasta, “this is lucky.” He quickly took a picture, folding his hands in his lap, waiting for Harry. “Thank you, baby.”

“It is not Fettucine Alfredo.”

Louis swiftly crossed his arms, brows creased in anger. “I should have known.”

“It is similar though.”

Louis slowly lifted his hand to his fork, “what is it?”

“Fettuccine burro e parmigiano.”

“Fettuccine burro… that means something in Spanish.”

“It isn’t Spanish.”

“It means donkey. I know that.”

“Burro in Italian means butter. It’s Fettuccine with butter and cheese.”

“Say it again.”

“Fettuccine burro e parmigiano.”

“You are so hot.” Louis groaned, “I love when you talk in Italian.”

Harry pressed his lips together, “Thank you.”

“Fettuccine burro parmigi-ano.”

“You don’t have to copy my accent.”

“But I love your _accent_. You can’t even say accent without an accent. I love it.” Louis pressed the tips of his fingers to his mouth, kissing them, “Fettuccine burro parmigiano! Mamma mia!”

“No one says that.”

“Of course they do!”

Harry smiled, picking up his fork, “you keep missing the e after burro.”

“What you’re telling me is you made a fake Fettuccine Alfredo and I’m going to love it because I love butter and cheese.”

“I am telling you that Fettucine Alfredo is not Italian. I made you the real ‘Fettucine Alfredo’.”

“It’s not Italian?”

“No.”

“It sounds Italian!”

Harry laughed, “eat, baby. It was supposed to be eaten once it was made.”

Louis quickly twisted some pasta on his fork, moaning, “baby.” Harry ignored the way it sounded in favor of eating. “Baby, it’s so good. It tastes just like it.”

“I know but it is not made with cream. It’s only pasta water, cheese and butter.”

“Oh wow.” Louis cut his noodles before eating them and Harry looked away, annoyed. He took a bite of his own food, happy with the taste. “I love this.”

“I will teach you how to make it.”

“You have a lot to teach me.”

“I am a very good teacher.” Harry gripped his fork when Louis started cutting his pasta again, “what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you cutting it?”

“So I have more of it.”

Harry stopped himself from laughing by taking a bite of pasta. “Dio.”

“You should make other things like this. Like spaghetti and meatballs!”

Harry shook his head at the mock accent, “that is not a thing in Italy.”

Louis slapped his own thigh, “what is the truth! I have been lied to! Is garlic bread from Italy?”

“No, not really.”

“Dio Mio!” Harry’s eyes lit up, fork dropping to his plate. Louis pouted, blinking at him, “I’m learning…”

Harry licked his lips, “learning?”

“Italian? I watched Dirty Dancing in Italian today. I thought… because I know the movie already…” Louis looked down, swallowing, “I know it’s a lot.”

Harry reached across the table to take Louis’ hand, “I think it is lovely and I am very amazed.”

Louis smiled shyly, “I really like you.” He shrugged, “I want to know everything about you. I want to learn about your culture, but I don’t want to look crazy.”

“Well,” Harry smiled back, “if you love me, you have to love everything about me.”

Louis’ fingers were shaking in his hand, “you can destroy me, Harry. You know that?” Harry cleared his throat. “Please don’t.” Louis quickly kissed Harry’s hand, letting it go so he could finish eating. “I have never met anyone whose made me feel like you do.”

Harry could feel that tightness in this throat again, around his eyes. He nodded slowly, “it’s not a feeling, it’s a heartbeat.” Louis covered his eyes, groaning. “Amore…”

“No one cares about what I like. I’m so boring but you care and it fucking makes me feel crazy.” Louis pressed his palms to his eyes, “no one cares about my favorite movie or my cats or my fucking calendars but you remember everything and I’m so scared because I’m so close to just letting you play with my heart but you have to play nicely. Please.”

Harry pushed out his chair, going on his knees in front of Louis. Louis wasn’t crying but it looked like he wanted to.

Harry was going to call his mother today. She wouldn’t care if he talked her ear off about Louis, she would encourage him so she could tell all her friends that he finally found someone.

“I promise. I swear.” Harry put his hands-on Louis’ knees. “I haven’t felt this young in a long time. It scares me but I know what there is no one after this. I have never clicked so fast with anyone, especially not someone who seems to be my opposite.” He smiled, “we can be Johnny and Baby. I think we both want to be happy. I wanted to open a restaurant and I did everything to make sure that happened. If you want something bad enough, you will have it. And, tesoro, I want you very much.”

Louis smiled, balls of his cheeks pink, “ti amo.”

Harry closed his eyes, smiling until his cheeks hurt, “ti amo.”


	8. Cannoli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for anyone who corrects my Italian! I'm sure there is something wrong in this one!
> 
> I dont speak Italian but I'm doing my very best. :)

Harry held Coconut under his arm, texting his mother that he would call her back later.

She wouldn’t be happy about it, might even call him disrespectful. But she would get over it after he spilled his love for Louis through the phone.

He hoped she put her phone against a microphone so the people of Positano could hear things about his boyfriend. So they could cheer and fall in love too. So they could scream; ‘finally!’ Finally, Harry found someone who was amazing. Someone unforgettable, because even if they didn’t work out, Harry would never forget Louis. Couldn’t. He found someone when he wasn’t looking. When he was more dedicated to his work than he was to sleeping.

They found each other.

Harry wasn’t even sure what was so special about Louis. Yes, he was beautiful and funny and sweet -maybe that was it. He just couldn’t understand what made him want to give every bit of love to Louis. Someone he knew but also didn’t know enough. Someone he jumped into a relationship with. Someone who he was willing to stop smoking for. Someone he wanted to bring home and show off.

Harry didn’t really care. Because if he didn’t know now, he would later.

Harry needed this to work but he wasn’t going to go crazy. Beating a healthy, happy horse is just as bad as beating a dead one.

“Is everything okay?”

Harry nodded quickly, sitting on the couch, Coconut slipping out of his arms. He looked at the two advent calendars between them. “Everything’s fine. Just texting my mother.”

Louis grinned, “about?”

Harry grinned back, picking up the calendar with makeup on it. “That I will call her later. To talk about you of course.”

Louis batted his hand, shoulders pulling up, “aw. You don’t have to talk about little-ole-me.”

Harry smiled, “I want to.”

“Even if people bother you about it?”

“Even if they do. I want people to know your name. I want them to know we’re a couple.”

Louis hummed, picking up the beach advent calendar. “PDA?”

“In between. In a group, not really. Sometimes?” Harry sighed, thinking, “I have not been in a relationship in a very long time. I do not know what I like and what I do not. I am also not going to base our relationship on prior ones because you are like no one I have ever been with, so I don’t think it’s fair to you.”

“Jesus,” Louis was in awe. “How can you speak like that? So, passionate? I feel underwhelming.”

“Trust me, you are not.”

Louis rubbed his eye, “I adapt very quickly. I accept change and I roll with it well. So, whatever it is that you decide that you like or don’t, I can change or work on or I might not change at all. I like natural change, you know? Not forced.” He snorted, “even though I forced you into not smoking.”

“You didn’t force me.”

“Well…”

Harry shook his head, “just know that I did not feel forced.”

Louis bit his bottom lip, “again, just know that I am willing to work with you on anything. I want this. I just want to be myself, one hundred percent. I want someone to see everything and say; ‘that’s okay. I still love him.’ You know?”

“I understand. I have never felt true insecurity. When I sent the photo of myself, I found myself staring at it. Seeing things I didn’t care to see before and I realized it was because I don’t want you to see those parts. So your words give me comfort. I hope you can see all of me and still feel the same.”

Louis nodded, “I am sure I will. You’re a really kind guy. I think kindness is lost these days, but you have it.”

“You should see me in a kitchen. You wouldn’t think so.”

“Do you scream a lot?”

“A lot.”

“Why?”

“It is what I was taught, and I thought it was worthy of following.”

“Tell me more.”

Harry adjusted his sitting, “I worked really hard to get where I am. I have put actual blood, sweat and tears into my craft but I only did that because of how I was trained. I have followed in my teachers footsteps and I think it works. I think some things don’t, they do more damage than help so I don’t use those teachings.” He shrugged, “I want success for others. Really. I hire people who have been in jail. I hire people who have trouble controlling their emotions. I hire people who have friction with the world because they are still apart of the world. Some people wake up and know that their life is unfair, so they have every right to be angry. They don’t think they have a chance. I was lucky to not have a hard childhood,” He licked his lips, “I am not here to tell you that life is going to get better, because it might not. I am here to teach you how to cook to show you that life can get better. I want you to cook that fucking salmon to perfection because that might be the only perfect thing in your life.” Harry pinched his fingers together, eyes squinting, “and if that piece of fucking salmon is all you have, be proud of it. I am going to make sure you are proud of it by not letting you serve anything else than perfection.”

Louis swallowed, eyes a little glossed over. He sniffled, rubbing his fingers over the advent calendar. The hairdresser smiled briefly, nodding, “you are -,” he considered his words. “Wonderful.” Louis smiled softly, “it kind of scares me because you’re so powerful in your speech and tone and,” he chuckled nervously. “I am so attracted to you and it. I have found respect for you that makes me feel cold. I want to make you proud and,” he scoffed, “I owe you nothing, but I want to.”

Harry leaned forward, taking Louis’ hand to kiss it. “Then we are truly on the same page.” He winked, pressing more kisses to Louis’ hand, then his wrist. Harry rubbed his lips against it, listening to Louis gasp. The red, bruised-like skin was rough on his lips. He pressed longer kisses to the irritated skin before pulling away.

“Thank you for trusting me with so many different parts of you, Louis. I do not take it for granted.”

Louis made a noise, looking away, shrinking. He pulled both feet onto the couch when one of the cats passed by. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry.”

Louis clenched his jaw, “I am so, so scared that I am not going to be paying attention and lose you. I can’t, man. I can’t lose someone so special. I really can’t. I rather not do this, because I think I’ll have breakdown if…” Louis shook his head, sucking his teeth. “Sucks…”

Harry let Louis stare at the movie playing on low. He watched the film through Louis’ blue eyes. It was playing for the second time. It was the sex scene that always made Louis groan at its corniness. But it also always made him smile really wide, made his dimples dip into his fat cheeks. It always made him fidget and kick his foot up and down.

Harry blinked when Louis finally looked at him. “Done?”

“Yeah.”

The chef smiled, opening the correct date on the advent calendar. He dug into the long box, pulling out a mascara wand. “Do you wear make-up?”

“No.” Louis opened his own small box, “they were on sale. I give them to the girls at my job.”

“Tell me more about your job.” Harry chewed his thumb at the small smile Louis couldn’t hide when he pulled out a bracelet. “What’s that, baby?”

Louis squirmed, just like he did during the movie scene. “A bracelet. It won’t fit our wrist. You can give it to your goddaughter.”

“She would love that, tesoro. Thank you.”

“I work with only women.” Louis frowned, “can you tell me a story or something before I talk? I feel down.”

“Do you actually think that I don’t want to be with you? That I don’t want to date you?”

“No. I think you really like me. I’m just scared that you won’t later.”

“Can you please let me be happy with you right now? Please?

“I’m not like this or maybe I am but I didn’t know it. I guess I haven’t found anyone worth keeping. I have a big head on my shoulders, but you make me want to shrink a little.” Louis took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be. Actually,” Harry chuckled, “I will take that one. I am sure I will have many things to apologize for in the future. So I will take that one.”

Louis laughed softly, cuddling up against the couch. He blew Harry a kiss, smiling when the chef closed his eyes. “I work with only women. Only one is my age, everyone else is older, and she’s the owner’s daughter. They like me a lot.” He shrugged, “I do hair. I have clients. It pays decent. The tips are the best part.”

“You say you can do all hair?”

“I work on so many types of hair. I like learning new things. I learned about all kinds of hair. It isn’t easy but anyone can do it if they want to. I didn’t go to school for it or anything. I did girls hair in high school for free and I realized I could get paid.” He wiggled his finger, “if you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

“Will you come with me next Tuesday, I believe, to my cousin’s home? I will pay you to do my goddaughter’s hair.”

“Baby,” Louis scoffed, “no. I will do it for free.”

“If you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

“Baby,” Louis groaned. “They are your family.”

“I feel more comfortable paying you.”

“I am going to say yes but only if you let me buy a meal.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered in annoyance, making Louis laugh. “Fine.”

Louis preened, “come here.” He moved the boxes away, letting them fall to the floor, making the cats jump. “I want to kiss you a hundred times.”

Harry crawled forward as Louis dropped against the ugly red couch that was still uncomfortable. “Just a hundred, gattino?”

Louis grinned, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, “fine, fine. A hundred-one.”

-

“Mamma!”

“Figlio orribile. Irrispettoso!” _(Horrible son! Disrespectful!)_

Harry rolled his eyes, falling back on his mattress. “Yes, good evening to you too, mamma.”

“You are very, very lucky, Harry. Very lucky that you are miles away and my shoe can only travel so far.”

The chef took a deep breath, “did you get the foto, mamma?”

“I did,” his mother was still agitated. “He is very young.” Harry didn’t respond, waiting. “Bellissimo.”

Harry smiled, covering his face, “Did you see his eyes?”

“Gorgeous, amore. He is so skinny.”

“Mamma,” Harry groaned.

“He is! Are you feeding him?”

“I try, I try.”

“Dio. You bring him to me, Harry. I feed him.”

Harry smiled warmly, remembering why he loved his mother. “He is picky.”

“He will love my food.”

Harry rubbed his stomach, “we are dating.” He closed one eye, waiting for his mother’s excitement to calm.

“Dio! Yes! Finally, a man worth my son’s time! When can I speak to him, Harry? Please.”

“Mamma, if you love me, you will not rush me.”

“Oi, I just want to talk to him. Hear him! I am so happy for you, amore! Così felice.” _(So happy.)_

Harry smiled, “mamma. He is amazing. He is sweet and smart, and he loves cats. I do not think I have told him you have a cat yet.” Harry chuckled, “he is gentle and small. He has the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. I want to watch the sunset behind him in Postiano. I want to see him against the brick by the bridge I would run by in the mornings, mamma. He is the most amazing person.” He touched his heart at his mother’s humming. “He has psoriasis on parts of his body. I have started doing research on it.”

“I bet it is his diet.”

The chef laughed loud, “aye.” He opened his eyes, thinking of Louis’ lights in his room. Thinking of Louis turning them on when the sun started to set. Harry gave him a few dollars for his swear jar, squeezing his boyfriend tight when Louis told him he would make him a swear jar too.

“I do not know him, but I like him very much, figlio. Gesù,” His mother cooed, “bring him here when you come.” _(Son)(Jesus)_

Harry frowned, “I cannot do that. It is way too soon.”

“Cosa? Why too soon? It is never soon enough.” Harry made a noise into the phone. The noise he usually made to let his mother know she was pushing it and he was going to start making excuses to get off the phone. “Tell me more, then. Dimmi.” _(tell me)_

And Harry did. He spoke until he couldn’t. Spoke until there were snores coming from his mouth.

-

“Why do they call her that?”

“What?”

“’Baby’.”

Harry removed the bowl from his large mixer, folding in the sifted flour. He was making the cupcakes for his goddaughter for tomorrow. He would bring them by early in the morning, before she went to school, so they were freshly done.

“Oh. She says it in the beginning of the movie.”

“You always forward that part.”

“Sometimes.”

Harry shrugged, grabbing a scale. He placed the cupcake tin on the scale, weighing each scoop. “What’s the reason?”

“It didn’t bother her.”

Harry stopped pouring, brows scrunching up. “Hm?”

“She says; ‘everybody called me baby, and it didn’t occur to me to mind’. She was young and everyone called her baby. She didn’t think much of it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a nickname that everyone called her. It was used so much that it became her name.”

“But her real name is Frances.”

“Aw, you remembered! Little cutie,” Louis groomed. “Yes. But you see that towards the end, when she’s all ‘grown up’.”

“Interesting.” Harry put the cupcakes aside, working on the second batch. “What are you doing, papa?”

“I am feeding Peppermint and doing homework. I have questions.”

“Ask me, tesoro.”

“First, are you making me cupcakes?”

“Sì.”

“Sì. Second, can I make pizza like the one you made at your ristorante?”

Harry pressed his lips together at Louis’ cute Italian accent. He may never admit how beautiful it was when his boyfriend did it. “No. Because you do not have a brick oven.”

“Got it. Three, you talked about meal prepping yesterday before you left.”

“Yes. We will begin next Monday.”

“Can you meal prep a pizza?”

“No.”

“Why?” Louis groaned, “give me one reason why.”

“It’s gross.” Harry smiled at Louis’ growl. He slid both trays into the oven, setting a timer for 30 minutes. “I cannot promise you pizza, but I can promise you delicious food. You will love it and your palette will expand beautifully.”

“You just love saying palette, don’t you?”

“I do,” Harry grinned, wiping his hands on his kitchen towel. “Any other questions?”

“Can I come over?”

Harrys stood up a little straighter, looking at the time. “It is late.”

“I know but I want to see you. You don’t have to say yes.” Louis sighed, “just miss you -and ‘m not trying to be needy.”

Harry swallowed, reaching for his wine glass to wet his mouth. “You can come over my house any time.”

“Ah, your casa. Spanish for house as we both already know.”

“Italian for house.”

“Listen, thief, we went over this before. Casa is Latin.”

Harry propped his hip against the counter, biting his lip. “Cosa bellissimo. Voglio baciarti, tesoro.”

Louis made the sweetest noise into the phone. “God, I love when you talk Italian…”

“Sì?”

“Sì.”

“Posso baciarti, amore?”

“Fuck,” Louis groaned. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Can I kiss you when you get here, amore?”

“Of course! Jesus. I’m leaving now.”

Harry chuckled softly. “Don’t hang up. Stay on the phone with me until you arrive.”

“Sì.”

The chef laughed, “Sì.”

-

“Amore!” Harry picked his boyfriend up when he ran into his arms. He kissed Louis’ neck, mouthing at it when the man laughed. “So excited this late at night.”

Louis’ laughs died down as he pressed his face against Harry’s button down. “I want to see you in pajamas, but you always look so good like this too.”

Harry lifted Louis’ face, “when will we have a sleep over then?”

“I,” Louis fidgeted, moving away, and Harry let him. “I was thinking soon. I just have to bring Peppermint because she needs to eat at certain times. I understand if that isn’t okay. Or, I mean,” Louis chuckled nervously, fingers trembling while Harry watched on with fond eyes. “You could go to my place, that would be easier, but I mean, your place is so nice, and your bed would fit us better. I mean, my bed would fit us but with not as much room, you know.” Louis scratched at his temple, “Are we even going to sleep in the same bed-”

“Hey,” Harry kept his hands to himself, figuring that Louis wouldn’t appreciate being touched at the moment. “I would love to sleep over your home. I have been,” Harry closed his eyes, “what is the word -what is -aching? I have been aching to see you sleeping under your lights.”

Louis pouted, scratching his wrist. The motion made Harry glance down and Louis quickly stopped. “Sorry. It’s gross.”

“No. It is not. But I have been doing my research and it is best that you don’t scratch it.”

“Research!” Louis covered his eyes, “you’ve been doing research! You’re so sweet.”

“You have been learning Italian.” Harry uncovered Louis’ eyes, kissing him. “I think that is sweet.”

Louis hugged him, rocking back and forth. “Let me take my shoes off, baby.” The hairdresser pushed his shoes off using his feet. He stared down at his shoes besides Harry’s. “You have a big foot.”

“Your foot is small.”

“Well, you know what they say about a man with a big foot.”

“What?”

Louis looked up at him, leaning back against him. “Big everything else.”

Harry paused for a moment, registering the joke. He laughed, hugging Louis from behind. The chef kissed the back of his neck, “I have a funny boyfriend.”

Louis squirmed, letting Harry run his hands over his arms. “I love that my psoriasis doesn’t scare you.”

Harry bent Louis’ arms, kissing at the man’s red skin. “Not even a little.” He licked the skin and Louis shivered.

“Harry,” Louis spun around. “Are you busy?”

Harry shook his head, “the cupcakes are done.”

“I can smell it. Can I have one?”

“Of course.”

Louis swallowed, “later.”

“Of course, baby.”

Louis nodded slowly, looking around, “can we… lay down for a little?”

Harry frowned, “if you look at me.” He folded his arms when Louis looked him in the eye. “Did me licking you scare you, gattino?”

“No,” Louis shook his head, “not at all. The opposite.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, nodding slowly, “you want to lay down?”

“I want to suck your cock while I jack off and I want you to watch me.” Louis’ face was bright red and Harry’s cheeks were too. “I know we both don’t know what to do or how to prompt things because it’s the beginning, but I want you to know I am very comfortable with you. I want to please you so badly.”

Harry could feel sweat forming on his brow. He stepped to the side a little, “I am also very comfortable. I am sorry, it was just a lot at once.”

“Yeah.” Louis smiled a little, “I feel like I said something wrong.”

“You didn’t.” Harry raised his hands, “you really didn’t. Just didn’t expect it.”

“I want to leave.”

“No.” Harry grabbed him, pulling Louis close enough for him to feel Harry hard against him. “No, because you wanted to suck my cock, while I watch you masturbate.”

Louis bit his lip, “you promise to watch me?”

“I don’t think I will be able to look at anything else.”

The hairdresser moaned softly when Harry’ grabbed his ass. Louis stood up on his toes, “can we learn a little bit about each other tonight. More intimately?”

“I would love that.”

Louis huffed, leaning back into the large hand on his ass. “Now.”

“Right now.”

-

“Jesus,” Louis gasped, sliding Harry’s shirt of his shoulders. He rubbed his hands up Harry’s arms, “you look so strong.”

Harry looked down at his torso. He did not have a six-pack. It was clear that he enjoyed food. “I could do to lose some weight,” He coughed shyly.

Louis shook his head, hands caressing every bit of skin he could find. He kissed Harry’s chest, inching down to his stomach. He rubbed the warm skin, breathing, “I like how you feel. It feels so strong.”

Harry’s head dropped a little, but he quickly recovered, making sure to watch Louis. He watched his small hands explore Harry’s hidden tattoos. Tattoos that hid under his button-downs and chef jackets. Louis kissed the tattoo on his upper arm before walking around him to kiss at the tattoo on his back.

Louis made sure to take his time and Harry waited. Hard and waiting -patient. Harry was patient for many things, specifically things that deserved the wait; such as croissants.

They needed laminating. They needed to be folded and folded again and again, refrigerated, and then folded again. You could use a machine but doing it by hand felt so much more satisfying.

A labor of love.

His chef once told him that every layer in a croissant represented how much love went into it. If you wanted a lot of layers, put more love into it.

Louis sat on his heels in front of him and Harry grabbed his face, remembering how to move. “You don’t have to be on the floor, papa.”

“I want to be,” Louis almost whispered. The hairdresser removed his shirt and Harry looked over every part he could see. Louis didn’t just feel skinny in his hands, he was skinny. Harry wanted to feed him all the food in his fridge but also kiss Louis’ ribs until he giggled.

Louis unbuckled Harry’s pants and he helped. “Is this weird?”

Harry shook his head, breathless, “not at all.” He ran his fingers through Louis’ soft hair, smiling briefly when it held its shape. He made a fist in the mess of hair when Louis finally pulled him from his pants. “Dio…”

Louis groaned, running his nose against Harry’s length. He pulled the skin away from the head, swallowing, “watch me.”

Harry’s green eyes fixed to Louis’ blue ones. Blue surrounded by dark circles that made Harry grunt. Louis’ lack of sleep made his heart hurt, but the effect of his lack of sleep -Harry was enamored with those bags. The chef was happy when Louis didn’t question why he kept rubbing his eye.

Why Harry’s thumb was so active on Louis’ deep bags.

He cleared his throat, choking slightly when Louis started swallowing him down, all of him. “Jesus.” Harry quickly opened his eyes as soon as he closed them. He promised Louis he would watch, and he would.

Louis sucked at the head, dimples showing more than they ever had before, tongue lapping at the underside. Harry squinted, eyes burning. Something about Louis’ mouth had him hooked from the beginning. To see it around him, watching his bright pink tongue swirl the head -the heat of his mouth taking every inch there was to take. His lips were turning the brightest shade of red. Every time his mouth pulled away; Harry wanted it back.

He was going to be a very lucky man.

He gripped Louis’ hair a little harder, testing, and Louis moaned around him. Harry watched his small hand fumbling at his own pants, pulling out his cock to stroke it. Harry pulled Louis’ head closer, sighing when he looked up at him. He blew his boyfriend a small kiss, biting at his lip when the tips of Louis’ ears went pink.

Harry slowly let Louis pull away, wiping away a small tear at the corner of his eye. “Okay, baby?”

Louis hadn’t stopped stroking himself. He nodded, raspy, “yes.” He kissed the palm of Harry’s hand. “Perfect.”

Harry guided Louis’ head back to his cock, groaning a little louder when he felt the faint brush of teeth. He couldn’t stop his head from falling back, couldn’t stop his hand from pulling Louis in every time he went out.

Harry hadn’t gotten a blow job in years and he missed it.

“Baby,” the chef panted. He looked back down when he felt a hand slide over his stomach. Louis’ hands were on the move, touching over every piece of skin as if he hadn’t done it before. Harry left one hand in his hair, the other to guide Louis’ hands.

Their hands were so different, just like their shoes. One covered in red and one covered in callous. One so much larger than the other. But both fitting together perfectly.

He pulled his boyfriend away, leaning down to kiss him hard. He licked his taste from Louis’ mouth, biting his lips bloodshot.

Louis moaned loud for him, the sound of angels.

All Harry needed was his restaurant or Louis’ bedroom. Needed him against the soft brown and white of Louis’ bedroom. Needed the lights, the sounds, the look his lover was giving him. Glossy eyed, parted mouth, aching for Harry’s kisses even if he couldn’t breathe.

Harry would accept the orange glow of his bedroom lamps. Lamps brought straight from Italy.

Harry couldn’t wait to take Louis to Italy, walk with him under the night sky, under the soft glow of the lights.

The first time Harry ever made croquembouche, it had fallen. The second time, it melted. The third time was for his aunt’s wedding. The tight feeling in his chest, the anxiety, vanished when his aunt took off a ball from the top and the tower stayed standing.

The tightness in his chest mixed with the powerful pride of the night was coming back to him.

Harry had a sweet boyfriend. His boyfriend was funny. His boyfriend was beautiful. His boyfriend was his.

He was almost positive Louis would love cream puffs.

“Amore,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ shiny lips. “You look fucking beautiful down there.”

Louis smiled at him, kissing Harry quickly. “You look even more beautiful up there.”

Louis called him handsome and beautiful a lot.

Harry cupped his face, kissing Louis once more. Louis kneeled up to kiss down Harry’s torso before falling back to his heels. He kissed above Harry’s length, kissing the trimmed hair there. He smiled up at his boyfriend, that beautiful smile, before taking him in his mouth again.

Harry had to lean to the side a little to the side to watch Louis thrust into his fist. He cooed softly, low, “ma guardati...” Harry could see Louis’ slick hand, and just behind it a small grouping of hair in the shape of a heart. “Gesù Cristo.” Harry dug his fingers into Louis’ scalp, “Cazzo... perfecto.” _(Look at you) (Jesus Christ)_

Louis moaned around him, gagging in the most delicate way one could. The hairdresser shuddered, moaning high in the back of his throat as he spilled over his curled fist. He didn’t stop moving up and down Harry’s length, jaw working until Harry could feel his own jaw become sore.

“Yes, yes,” Harry groaned, huffing. “Fuck, just-” The chef loosened his hold on Louis’ head, breathless when Louis didn’t move away. “Baby, baby, I’m-” Harry closed his eyes, letting the unaccustomed feeling wash over him. The same way that a wave at the beach would hit you even though you knew it was coming.

“Fuck,” Harry gasped once more, able to look past the lights in his eyes to see Louis licking away any remains of his release. He cupped Louis’ face, crouching so they were at eye level. Harry kissed his cheeks gently, dragging a hand across Louis’ thin frame. “Thank you.”

Louis smiled, “don’t say thank you.”

Harry chuckled tiredly, worn out. “I have not had that in a long time.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever cum from sucking someone’s dick.”

Harry growled softly, “my dick.”

“Yours.” Louis smiled, kissing Harry, throwing his arms over his broad shoulders. “I’m so happy our bodies fit together well.”

Harry took the moment to caress Louis’ body just at Louis had did to him. He pulled his boyfriend’s jeans down, so he could stare at his butt. A butt he found to be very, very cute. He cupped it in both hands, squeezing, “così carino.” _(So cute)_

“Mm,” Louis hummed, “your Italian definitely did the trick.”

Harry laughed, “sleep over, amore. Stay with me.”

Louis pulled away frowning, “you know I can’t.”

Harry nodded, stroking Louis’ hair back into place. “I know…” Harry stood Louis up, kneeling in front of him. He touched the perfectly shaped heart of hair against Louis’ skin. He smiled softly, rubbing his lips there, kissing the soft hair.

He felt like the sculpture; Daniel and the Lion in Chigi Chapel in Rome. Harry had gone once when he was young, with his grandmother. The one statue that caught his eye was of Daniel. He prayed on his knees, looking to the sky to thank God.

Harry felt very similar.

“Baby,” Louis whispered, cupping the back of Harry’s head. He bit his lip, running his fingers through Harry’s gray hairs. “You don’t have to be so sweet to me.”

Harry looked up at him, finding the orange lighting did Louis just right.

“Promise me next time you will sleep with me.”

“Next time, I promise.” Louis touched the bottom of Harry’s lip, “I would like to lay down for a little though.”

Harry stood, helping Louis up and out of his jeans. He stared down at their clothes; one covered in rips and wrinkles, and the other ironed to perfection.

He liked that too.

-

“I don’t want to go home.” Louis rubbed his face against Harry’s bare chest.

“You don’t have to.” Harry kissed the top of his head, running a lazy hand up and down Louis’ hip. “Stay.”

“Peppermint needs to eat. Stop trying to change my mind,” Louis groaned, sitting up. He looked down at Harry, smiling warmly, blowing him a kiss. “You look so beautiful down there.”

Harry smiled tiredly, happily, “you look so beautiful up there.” He lifted a hand to Louis’ face, rubbing his cheek with his thumb, “I haven’t felt like that in years and not just the sex part.”

Louis grinned wide, “me either.” He kissed Harry’s warm palm, “but, I do think our sex life is going to be amazing.”

“I think so too.”

Louis laughed softly, “I think I’m ready for my cupcake.”

Harry took a deep breath, sitting up, “you can have anything you want.” He kissed Louis lazily, mumbling, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“We can’t cuddle forever,” Louis mumbled back, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip. “Even though I really want to.”

“Mm,” Harry moaned, kissing down Louis’ face to his thin neck. He sucked at the skin, “Don’t leave me, baby.”

Louis panted, thighs rubbing together, “please don’t tempt me.”

“I know,” Harry stood up, going to his drawer for pajama pants. He put them on, turning around to Louis who watched him intently. He grinned, “Cosa?”

“Nothing,” Louis batted his lashes when Harry’s brows went up. He lifted his nose proudly, “I know what that means.”

Harry laughed, walking towards the bed. He grabbed Louis’ face in both hands, squeezing, “Resta con me per sempre.”

Louis blushed, laughing nervously. “I don’t know that one.”

“Stay with me forever.”

Louis laughed harder, nervous giggles spilling from his mouth as his cheeks grew hot in Harry’s hands. “I would.”

Harry kissed him hard to save Louis from anymore embarrassment.

-

“How were the cupcakes? A hit, I’m sure. I loved mine last night. And I have plenty more at home thanks to my talented boyfriend.”

Harry grinned, “do not eat them all at once.”

“I had two for breakfast.”

Harry made a face, “I am writing out your meal plans now. Cupcakes for breakfast is a no.”

“Then why give them to me?” Before Harry could speak, Louis kept talking. “How were they?”

“Amazing,” Harry smiled. “Angie was so happy.”

“I get to meet her and Le-ah? Soon.”

“Leah, yes.” Harry lifted his head, nodding to his cousin when he entered the office. “Baby, I will call you when I can.”

“Of course! Sorry! I’m on my way to work anyway.”

“Text me when you arrive.”

“Aw. I will, baby.”

“Thank you. Ti amo, papa. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Ti amo,” Louis spoke a little softer. “Bye!”

Harry grinned, setting his phone on his desk. “Cosa?”

“In love so soon?”

Harry groaned, “what is it, Liam?”

“I cannot come say hello?” Liam laughed at the look his cousin gave him. Liam sat, “they are fine out there. I wanted to talk to you.”

Harry smiled, “talk to me.”

“How is Louis?”

“He is exactly how my mother told you he was.”

“She called la mia mamma.” _(my mom)_

Harry kept smiling, “I know. Zia has called me five times. Does she forget we have a time difference?”

Liam grinned, “I can say that you seem much happier.”

“Do I?”

“Sì. You have not screamed once this morning.”

“Just wait.”

Liam laughed, “meraviglioso. Leah says he will do Angie’s hair. I will not be special anymore for knowing how to do my daughter’s hair.” _(wonderful)_

“I want to introduce him slowly.”

“There is no ‘slowly’ for our family.”

“I will not have them scare him away.”

Liam smirked, “le nuove ricette? How goes it?” _(new recipes)_

Harry shrugged, “Today I will work on some. I am going to Italy no matter. I will worry about it when I am there. I have to worry about here now.” He rubbed the inner corners of his eyes, “Louis thought of a hot chocolate gelato.”

“Hm, that is more winter.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “Any ideas?”

“Tiramisu?”

Harry thought for a moment, “not bad.” He quickly wrote it in his journal. “Okay.”

Liam stood, leaning over the desk. “Are you in such a good mood because of something you and Louis did?”

The owner leaned back in his chair, “get out and get to work.”

Liam smirked, “Sì capo.” _(Yes boss)_

_-_

“Baby,” Louis squealed into the phone. “Hi!”

Even after a day in hell, Louis’ voice could make Harry smile. “Hi, love. How are you?”

“Good. I am home, studying and eating my last two cupcakes.”

“You ate all of them?”

“Yes.” Louis yawned, “did you call me to yell at me?”

“No, but you are eating all those cupcakes because you are hungry because you do not eat.”

“I do eat!”

“Vending machine food will never be food.” Harry turned on a few lights in his home. “Never.”

Louis laughed, “aw, man. You are great.” He hummed, “can’t believe you’re all mine, baby.”

Harry grinned, setting his shoes down by the door. “What were you up to all day?”

“Well,” Louis sang, “I started making your swear jar. You are going to love it!” Harry smiled. “I studied. I worked on my Spanish and Italian. I watched Dirty Dancing -in Italian! I looked up some recipes to help you out with your new recipes.”

“Oh?” Harry nodded, “what did you come up with?”

“Stracciatella -you have that?”

Harry shuddered, voice lowering, “you sounded so good saying that.”

Louis laughed that nervous laugh Harry loved. “Aw, stop you!”

Harry sat in a heap on his couch, “say it again.”

“No!”

“Come on, baby,” The chef grinned, “come on.”

“Stracciatella…” Louis mumbled.

“Thank you,” Harry hummed. “What is your idea, gattino?”

“Make it into a cupcake! It sounds delicious!”

Harry cut his eyes, thinking, “make it into a cupcake? I do not sell cupcakes at my restaurant.”

“Sell them!”

“Cupcakes do not fit the theme.”

“What about a cake?”

“I can make a cake, but it would melt so it wouldn’t make sense.”

“Damn.” Louis huffed, “this is hard. Everything is already made by someone!”

Harry laid down, “making recipes is hard.”

“What about, what about -cannoli?”

Harry sat up, “I wanted you to try cannoli. I sell it.”

“Okay, okay, but what about chocolate cannoli?”

“Do you know what ricotta is?”

“Barely.”

“I think you will hate it.”

“Oh,” Louis mocked, “because you know my _palette_.”

“I know it well enough.”

Louis made a noise and Harry could see his big smile through the phone. “I think that it’s fried, and I love fried food. -Oh! A cannoli gelato!”

“What -what would that even be, baby?”

“The fried part on the side!”

Harry laid back down, huffing, “no.”

-

“Baby,” Louis jumped in his arms like he usually did, and Harry made sure to catch him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Harry kissed Louis’ cheek. “What a nice surprise.”

“I was giving away a cat.”

“Where do you find these cats?”

“It was one of the cats from the bank. It followed me so I took her. Now she has a new home.” Louis fixed his backpack, rubbing his wrist against his shirt. “I was in the area, so I came to have lunch because I get to pay today.”

“No.” Harry pulled Louis towards the bar before he could fight him. He helped him onto the stool, ignoring Louis’ slapping hands. “Let me, papa.” He kissed Louis’ cheek hard, “there. Beautiful.” He sat on the stool beside him, smiling, “don’t be angry.”

Louis turned away from him, “you dragged me and helped me.”

“I hate seeing you struggle.”

“Stop that,” Louis puckered his lips, turning to face him slowly, “respect me and my choices.”

Harry nodded, holding up a hand, “I swear I will work on it.”

“Good enough.” Louis lifted his hand, red string around his thin wrist, “and I promise to respect you and yours.”

“Thank you.” Harry grabbed his hand, kissing it, “can you give me a kiss, so I know you are not mad at me anymore?”

Louis smirked, dimple dipping in on one side. He leaned forward, pecking Harry on his lips. “Always forgiven, baby.” The hairdresser brought his boyfriend’s hands to his face, kissing them. “You smell so good. What were you cooking?”

“I have been making bread for the last three hours.”

“Mm,” Louis bit his lip, kissing Harry’s hands again. “I want, please. I want it so bad.”

Harry pressed his forehead against Louis’, “I will feed you bread until your belly is round if you ask me like that again.”

Louis caught a blush, brushing his nose against Harry’s quickly. “Yuck, we’re that couple -again.”

“And again and again. If I can feel like this, and make you smile like that, I will be ‘that’ couple every second of the day.”

“So sweet!” Louis laughed, batting Harry’s hands to just kiss them again. “So romantic!”

Harry smiled, looking over to his bartender, “I will serve him. Don’t worry, Jean.”

“Yes sir.” Jean smiled, “enjoy.”

Harry looked back at his boyfriend, “what?”

“I don’t know,” Louis giggled. “So handsome. I’m in your restaurant, you’re the boss. You have your chef jacket on. My baby is so handsome.”

Harry grabbed his face hard, kissing him, “Dio. You are going to drive me crazy.”

-

“This,” Louis rubbed his full belly. Harry made him a pizza because Louis begged him. “This is going to be so good.” Harry fled mid-way through Louis eating his pizza to check on his bread. He was sad to have missed watching him eat but also grateful because he hated that Louis felt the need to rip his pizza to shreds.

Louis was going to be a spoiled ball of bread very soon, if he wasn’t already.

The hairdresser held up a single cannolo, “this is huge. I’m so excited.”

Harry watched with heart eyes that slowly ripped in half when Louis broke the cannoli in half. “No,” the chef hissed, “baby, no.”

Louis gaped at him, looking around, “we are in public.”

“No.” Harry frowned, “you broke it.”

“How else would I eat it?”

“Bite it.”

“No,” Louis snorted, “it’ll get everywhere.”

“It is supposed to. No boyfriend of mine is going to cut his cannoli. No.”

Louis looked away, mumbling ‘ _cannoli’_ with an embarrassingly accurate accent. “Well I already did it.”

“I will eat that one. Eat the other.”

“You are too aggressive about my eating habits.” Louis lifted the second cannoli, glaring at Harry. “When everything spills out, I’m going to blame you.”

“It is supposed to do that.” Harry picked up the broke cannoli, biting it. He lifted a brow, waiting for Louis’ several expressions to calm down. “Well?”

“It all fell out.” Harry rolled his eyes. “But it was okay cause I still got cream.” Louis took another bite, laughing when the cannoli leaked again. “I like it. It’s fun.”

Harry smiled, wiping the cream from the corner of Louis’ mouth. “I think I like watching you eat this one the most.”

“Of course you do. You wanted this.”

Harry shrugged, “and if I did?”

Louis stuck out his tongue, finishing the cannoli. “Can I have the broken one?”

“Have all of it, il mio tesoro.” The chef put a hand on Louis’ knee, “maybe I’ll try your cannoli gelato idea.”

“It would be so good. The best part is the little chips. You should add extra.”

“I will make you some special.”

Louis smiled warmly, “cause I’m special, baby?”

Harry squinted at him, letting his restaurant fall to pieces around him. Louis in rips and dirty sneakers that still weren’t tied. Louis with psoriasis and dimples. Louis with a backpack still on his back, covered in cat patches.

Harry let everything fade into nothing but hanging lights.

“The most special man I have ever met.”

Louis winked at him, licking the cannoli filling off his thumb. “Love you.”

Harry pressed his lips together, squeezing Louis’ thin thigh. “Love you too.”


	9. Lasagna alla Bolognese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for anyone who corrects my Italian!
> 
> I dont speak Italian but I'm doing my very best. :)

“Ta-da!” Louis held up Harry’s swear jar, turning it in a circle, “it’s your swear jar!”

Harry was thrown off by his boyfriend, even more thrown off by him coming to the restaurant so late at night. He was sure Louis was supposed to be in bed by now, getting ready for a ‘God-awful’ test tomorrow morning.

Harry’s heart was racing either way -for several reasons.

Louis frowned immediately, “baby.” He shook his head, “have you been smoking?”

“What are you doing here?” Was the only response Harry could come up with.

“Do not ignore my question, Harry.” Louis tucked the jar under his arm. “You smoked today -just now probably.”

Harry licked his lips, “I did.” He straightened his jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“Why did you, is my question?”

“Because I was-”

“Stressed?”

“Can I finish?”

Louis sucked his teeth, “Harry. I think I’ve told you once already, I do not work for you.”

“You started it.” Harry frowned, “you do not say hello, how are you? You ask me about me smoking. Not why you are here, nothing.”

Louis huffed, looking down, “I just wanted to see you…”

“And you are.”

Louis took the jar from under his arm, “I’m going home.”

Harry quickly unbuttoned his coat, going after his boyfriend. “Louis. I am so confused. Can we speak, please?”

Louis turned around, deep frown on his face. “I feel stupid.”

“Well, I cannot control how you feel but I can tell you that you do not look stupid. I,” Harry sighed, removing his coat. “I smoked because we had a group of twenty tonight and I just wanted everything to go well, and it did, but I was very – ansioso -anxious.” He breathed, “I needed a cigarette and I did throw all mine away, so I asked one of the chefs.” He stood up straight, “I am trying. I just get such bad headaches and my fingers itch. I am sorry.”

Harry had been getting the worst headaches lately. That plus the lack of sleep and amount of work, Harry was burning out.

“It is not your fault. I should not be forcing you to stop.”

“But it is not wrong that you ask me to.” He came closer and Louis stepped back. “I am sorry.”

“I just -I want to leave. Please don’t touch me. Just don’t.”

Harry felt a chill go up his spine at the turn of the night. He was expecting to go home happy and see Louis tomorrow morning after his test.

But,

Expectations were just that. Expectations.

“I will not touch you, but I will not let you leave me like this. If I must walk behind you the whole time, I will.” Louis blushed red, hands squeezing the jar tight. “It is windy. Come inside, we can talk.” Louis’ jaw was set tight. He walked past Harry, inside. Harry let go a sigh of relief, following behind.

He walked them to an empty booth in the corner. It was a busy Sunday night, but they were closing soon. Dishes were being washed for the night; candles blown out. The warm hanging lights stayed on; a blessing for Harry.

He sat across from Louis, staring at him. “Talk to me, gattino timido.” _(shy kitten)_

Louis squirmed in the booth, shrugging. “I want to leave.”

“Show me my jar first.”

Louis slid it across the table. Harry picked it up carefully, smiling at his name on the front. It was in red and white chalk marker, surrounded in green hearts. The same colors as the Italian flag. White glitter covered the bottom of the jar. The other side of the jar said; ‘Cuore Mio’. Harry rubbed his fingers over the perfectly placed assortment of stickers cats. _(My heart)_

He smiled at the sticker at the top of the jar, just below the hole. It was a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

Harry pressed his lips together, sitting back with the jar cupped in one hand, watching Louis rub at his wrist.

“Thank you. It is so cute.” Louis looked up at him. “I love it very much, baby. I really,” Harry could feel that odd ball forming at the back of his throat, scratching there. He sniffled once, clearing his throat. “I have never received something like this, and I do not think I ever will again. I thank you, so much.”

Louis was blushing against the warm glow. He huffed, “tell me I’m not stupid.”

“You are not stupid.” Harry set the jar down. “Tell me why you are here.”

“I finished your jar, and I wanted to give it to you. I know I have to wake up early. I just want to see you all the time. I get so happy seeing you. -The way you looked at me hurt. I don’t care if you smoked. I mean, I do but,” Louis snorted, “I know you get stressed. I can’t expect you to stop something so fast. I just felt dumb and so I called you out on it instead of just being happy to see you.”

“I did not mean to look at you badly, amore. You only surprised me, and I had just had a cigarette and I felt bad.” Harry reached across the table, holding his hand up. “I knew you would smell it. I was wrong to try and hide it from you. I am so happy to see you, always.”

Louis looked so small in the booth, staring at Harry’s hand. “This was dumb.”

Harry smiled, hand still open, “my mother fights with my father often, over ‘dumb’ things. But they are always still in love when they go to bed together. So long as they do not bleed into another day, which is why I wanted to respect you, but I could not let you leave. You understand? I will not let something so small bleed into a new day.”

Louis finally grabbed his hand with shaky fingers. Louis kissed Harry’s palm. “After a year, would you move in with me?”

“I would move in with you tomorrow.”

Louis laughed, “no. That’s too soon. We could hate each other in a week.”

Harry stared at Louis’ red lips, red from biting them out of nerves. He looked at his bright blue eyes, “no. I do not think so.” Louis hummed against Harry’s warm knuckles. “I do not think I can hate you in a week nor a year.”

Louis blushed, “not even when you’re covered in cat fur?”

“Not even then,” Harry answered immediately.

-

“Fuck,” Harry woke up startled. He looked around for the sound coming from his phone. “Hello?”

“Harry-”

“Mamma?” Harry groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “por favore. It is three in the fucking morning, mamma.”

“Oi! I cannot call my son once in a while?”

“We spoke a few days ago!” Harry huffed, trying to keep his voice calm. “Sei ubriaco?” _(Are you drunk?)_

“Quasi.” His mother laughed. “What are you doing, figilo?” _(almost)_ _(son)_

Harry groaned, “Sto dormendo, mamma!” _(I’m sleeping!)_

“If you are sleeping, how are we speaking? Eh?”

Harry sighed, sitting up, “Dov'è papà?” _(Where’s dad?)_

“Sta parlando con tua cugina Mila. And I, tua madre, am calling you. My only son. Mio bellissimo, meraviglioso figlio.” Harry took a deep breath, rubbing his neck. “I want to meet my future son-in-law.” _(He’s talking to your cousin, Mila.) (your mother) (my beautiful, wonderful son)_

Harry smiled with a soft sigh, “cazzo, mamma. We have just started dating.”

“And I do not know enough about him.”

“I have told you many things! I spoke for hours!” Harry threw his blanket off, taking a moment before standing. “It is -people here are not so emotion driven.”

“He has no emotions?”

“I did not say that. Stop.” He turned on the light, squinting, “I told you plenty about him. You just want me to keep talking.”

“And you do not want to keep telling?” Harry bit his lip, trying not to smile. “You do not want to talk about him more?”

“Mamma…”

“Did you see him today?”

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “He made me a swear jar.”

“Cosa?”

“Parolacce. It is a container.” _(profanity/swear)_

“Non capisco.” _(I don’t understand)_

Harry laughed, “When you swear, you put money in a jar. He made me one.”

His mother laughed loud. It made Harry’s heart beat a little faster.

He missed his mother.

“Che dolce! Tell me more! I want to hear it all!” _(how sweet!)_

Harry covered his face, head pounding from the light against his sensitive eyes. But he spoke.

He couldn’t stop speaking.

-

Harry took a picture of his swear jar, sending it to his mother before setting it down. He put twenty dollars it, expecting he was going to use it a lot today.

He called Louis, putting his phone on speaker.

“Hello!” His boyfriend sang.

“Oi, Buongiorno gattino.” _(Good morning, kitten)_

“Oi! Good morning to you too! I know that one!”

Harry laughed, “you are way too loud this morning. What is going on?”

“I have fucking -fuck!” Louis shuffled on the phone, “I am so scared for today,” his boyfriend sobbed.

“Why?”

“I have been practicing Italian etiquette all night like a freaking fool, baby! A fool!” Louis groaned, “Can you tell her I broke my fingers?”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“No, because I want to see you work.”

“Aw, pervert.”

“I guess,” Harry chuckled, going to the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”

“Ugh,” Louis gagged. “Stop, mom.”

“I want to know.”

“No, I have not.”

“What will you have, beautiful?”

“Toast and cereal, your favorite.” Harry tried not to roll his eyes too hard. “Yeah, I can hear that vomit building. I am having cereal, baby, cereal! -Come on, they don’t eat cereal in Italy?”

“Yes, but Italy has nothing to do with it. It is not breakfast, in Italy or here.”

“Harry, I think that I can live with you hating everything I eat because I seriously, seriously love you. You are so freaking amazing. I just, I don’t know if it’s the accent or that you look like an Italian fucking chef God-” Harry covered his mouth, laughing, cheeks bright red and hot. “But, please, please, let’s be with each other for ever. I want to wake up laughing and hearing your stupid little accent that is so freaking cute. I want to make swear jars with you for the rest of my life.” Harry was stunned for words. “I’ll quit school, you quit being a chef. Let’s start a swear jar business with our cats.”

Harry couldn’t remember a time he laughed so hard.

His uncle had been divorced three times and when Harry asked why the fourth marriage would succeed, he had said _; ‘because she is funny. She makes me laugh. None of the others did.’_ And, twenty years later, they were still going strong.

Harry could only hope for the same.

-

“I think,” Louis stayed in the car, gripping a bottle of wine. “I am regretting my life decisions.”

Harry stopped looking for his phone charger, “hm?” His boyfriend stared at his cousin’s large home. “What?”

“What if I can’t do her hair? What if everyone laughs at me?”

“Everyone?” Harry tapped Louis’ knee while looking through the glove compartment once more. “It is only Leah and I.” He huffed, “fuck. I left my charger.”

“You owe yourself a dollar.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I have one.”

“We have different phones.”

“Baby!” Louis grabbed his face, “you aren’t listening to me!”

“I am, but if I indulge in your worries, you will just be more nervous.”

Louis frowned, “no, I won’t.”

“Louis, I do not care if you put a tail in Leah’s hair.”

“Tail?”

“Yes. I do not care. I want them to meet you because I love them, and I love you.” Harry pulled softly at Louis’ pouting lip, “and I want to see you work.”

Louis kissed him, “I love you too. See, don’t ignore me. It doesn’t calm me.” He kissed him once more, “and it is called a ponytail. Not a ‘tail’.”

“I speak very good English but some words, I do not know so well.”

Louis smiled at his boyfriend, “I love your accent. It’s like watching a B rated movie.” He leaned over to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Open your trunk, baby, so I can get my stuff.”

Louis took his time, taking out his hair bag. He held Harry’s hand to the door, letting go when he heard screaming from the other side.

“Zio!” A little girl with a flurry of curly hair ran into Harry’s stomach.

Louis stepped back when Harry picked her up, “Topolina!” He squeezed Angie, beaming, “Ciao, darling.” _(little mouse)_

A dark skin woman was just behind her, smiling warmly, “Ciao, Harry.”

Harry smiled, looking at Louis who stood uncomfortably to the side with a small smile on his lips. “Louis, amore, this is Leah.” He put Angie down, “Angie. This is my boyfriend, Louis.”

Angie smiled, holding out her hand. “Good afternoon.”

Louis swallowed, taking her small brown hand into his, “good afternoon.” He glanced at Leah, “hello. I brought wine.”

“Oh, how kind. Thank you and hello,” Leah opened her door wider, taking the bottle. “Come in, please.” She grabbed her daughter’s hand, “let them in, amore.”

Angie ran inside, squirming, waiting for her godfather to come in. “Welcome to our home!”

Leah smiled, shaking her head, “lower your voice.” She looked at Louis, “welcome. I’m Leah.”

“Louis,” the hairdresser breathed. Harry put an arm around him, and Louis melted. “Harry has told me about both of you, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“Harry has told us about you too.”

“You,” Angie grinned, “look just like your photo!”

Louis laughed softly, “hopefully that is a good thing.”

“It is,” Angie beamed. “You are going to do my hair today?”

“I am. Is that okay?”

“Yes!” Angie shook her hair, “I have a request.”

Louis laughed, covering his mouth. “I love her.” He bent forward, “what’s that?”

“I want pigtails, please.”

Louis nodded, closing one eye, “I think I can do that.”

“Good!” Angie ran to the living room and Louis stood up straight.

“Angelina!” Leah called. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No,” Louis laughed, “it is fine.” He leaned against Harry and the chef put an arm around his waist.

“Sì, mamma?”

“Say thank you.”

“Oh,” Angie frowned, “thank you for coming to do my hair, Louis.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now you can go wait.”

“Sì, mamma.”

Leah sighed, “welcome, again. I was really excited when Harry said you’d be able to do Leah’s hair.”

Louis nodded excitedly, “I am really happy now that I’m seeing her hair because I’m a lot more confident doing it.”

“Don’t be too sure, her hair can trick you.” Leah’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “we’ll be waiting here. I have some cheese and wine when you are ready.”

Louis turned to Harry when she walked away, “this house is huge. I thought yours was huge.”

Harry rubbed his boyfriend’s arms, “they have a very big house.”

“Jesus,” Louis looked around, “look, it’s you.”

Harry looked behind him at a photo hanging on the wall, “it is.”

“I’m nervous.”

The chef laughed, “I can tell, baby. Leah is very nice, do not be nervous.”

Louis kissed him, pouting, “okay.” He kissed Harry again, “wine should help.”

Harry grinned, “we drink a lot of wine.”

“Even better.”

-

Harry could barely hear what Leah and Louis were talking about. They had it hit off well, from as far as he could tell. Louis asked Leah lots of questions about Italy, about hair -about where she bought her wine.

Angie played on her game system that Harry had bought her for Christmas last year.

And Harry watched Louis’ thin fingers work his goddaughter’s hair. His boyfriend didn’t have to look, he stared at Leah most of the time, smiling and laughing -being the most charming man Harry had ever seen. His fat cheeks were red with the sweet white wine Leah served with Brie because Harry had told her Louis wasn’t fond of red wine.

Harry licked his lips when Louis stuck his comb between his teeth. The chef took a long sip of his wine, watching his boyfriend over the rim of his glass. Something about the comb between his teeth, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up and the scrunchies on his wrist, had Harry over the moon.

Had Harry falling in love. With what? Something so simple, falling in love with almost nothing. He made a mental note to call his father, ask if it took little to nothing to fall in love with his mother.

Was it supposed to be so easy?

Louis leaned forward, asking Angie if he was pulling too tight to which she grinned and said, ‘Mamma pulls super tight’.

Harry loved watching him work. He hoped once day Louis could watch him work, wondered if he would fall into a deep love, like Harry was. Louis made brushing and pulling and twisting look effortless.

Harry tried doing Angie’s hair before. It was far from effortless.

Louis did focus on brushing, not trying to pull at any knots. He focused on brushing down her small hairs. He smiled warmly, titling her chin up to make sure both designs matched. Louis fluffed up her pigtails before squatting with a big smile, “all done.”

Angie smiled back, pausing her game. She set down her game, “can I look?”

“Please.” Louis helped her out of the seat, quickly going to Harry when she ran off.

Harry slowly pulled Louis into his lap, rubbing his thigh, “she’s going to love it.”

Leah nodded in agreement, three cups of wine deep, “it looks really nice, Louis.”

“Ah!” Angie squealed, little feet running back. “my goodness! I look so cute!” She cupped her face, smiling, “look, mamma.”

“Beautiful, Angie.” Leah pulled her closer, fingers stroking over the top. “It’s hard to get all the curls to stay down.” Her mother grinned, “very good job.”

Louis smiled, surprised when Angie ran to hug him. “Thank you, Louis!” She shook her curls, “Look, uncle!”

“You have to be the most beautiful girl I have ever seen!”

Angie laughed, “I want to show daddy!” She shook her head, hair hitting her face. “I love when my hair is done!”

Harry squeezed Louis’ sides when he bit his lip. He kissed the back of his boyfriend’s arm, leaving his lips there.

-

Louis stayed in Harry’s lap most of the time, until lunch.

“I am almost done,” Leah ran out of the kitchen putting new wine glasses on the table.

Louis crossed his hands in his lap, looking at Harry. “I’m a little drunk.”

Harry laughed, drinking his water. “We drink lots of wine.”

“I’ll grow a tolerance.” Louis looked around the dining room. “Their house reminds me a little of yours. The colors.”

“My mother’s house looks the same.”

Louis looked up when Leah came out of the kitchen with a hot pan in hand. She set it down, calling for her daughter to come eat.

Leah filled their new wine glasses, again, before sitting. She kissed her daughter on the temple once she was seated beside her.

“So,” Leah smiled, “tell me about you two.”

Harry cut his eyes, “Leah.”

“I know, the typical question.” Leah grabbed a spatula, digging into the lasagna. She served Louis first, “who asked who out?”

“I,” Louis raised his hand shyly, “I asked Harry out.”

“Not surprised,” Leah grinned, serving her plate last. “Buon appetito.”

Louis quickly sat up, speaking a little louder, “grazie, altrettanto!” He swiftly looked at Harry, eyes big. “I’m sorry.” _(Thank you, likewise)_

Harry blinked, mouth parted slightly, “For what?”

“I didn’t know,” Leah spoke, “you knew Italian?”

“I,” Louis bit his cheek, “I am practicing, and I may have looked up a lot of things about eating…”

Harry grabbed his thigh, smiling, “that is beautiful, papa.”

Louis smiled with a tint to his cheeks. He dipped his head at Leah, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Leah grinned, “it was a nice surprise.”

“I,” Angie spoke up, picking up her big fork. “didn’t know he was Italian, mamma.”

“He is not, baby.

“Oh.” Angie shrugged, “okay.” She ate a big bite of food. “Mm!” She chewed then swallowed, “delicious!”

“Thank you, Angie.”

Louis cut a small piece of his lasagna, putting it to his mouth. Harry watched closely, taking a bite of his own food.

Louis smiled then started laughing, “oh my God, that is amazing. Is it just-”

“It is lasagna alla Bolognese!” Angie spoke, “my favorite!”

“What does that mean?” Louis frowned, “what is Bolognese, baby?”

“It’s just a meat sauce but -well, it has milk, so it is much richer than a typical meat sauce.”

“Ah, got it. Thank you.” He looked at Leah, “Well, it is amazing.”

Harry was unsure if Louis was being dramatic or if he was going to poke at his food for the next hour. The chef was surprised when Louis’ plate was empty before his.

“So, meal prepping, eh?”

“Yes. Louis eats -his food habits are frustrating.”

Louis laughed, “shut up!”

Harry smirked, looking back at Leah, “they are.”

“He ate my food just fine.”

“Trust me, Leah. Frustrante.”

“Hey!” Louis pointed at him, “do not say things I can’t understand. That’s not fair.”

“I am saying you are frustrating.”

“Oh,” Louis grinned, smacking Harry playfully. “Shut up!”

Leah laughed, “you both are very cute.” She leaned back in her chair, “you said you were going to school for-”

“No one remembers the name. Stenographer.” Louis smiled, finishing his fourth glass of wine. “It’s kicking my butt.”

“I remember being in school. Just awful.”

“What did you go to school for?”

“I was a teacher back in Italy and realized I hate kids.”

“Hey!” Angie pointed a thumb at herself, “I am a kid!”

“Yes, you are. My only one for a reason.”

“I want a sister,” Angie laughed.

“Tell that to my tied tubes, amore.” Leah lifted her glass to the air, “grazie a Dio for doctors.”

“Adoption, mamma! Puoi adottare!” _(you can adopt)_

“After you? Ha!” Leah scoffed, “no, grazie.”

Louis laughed loud, “that is so funny.” He looked at Harry, “my God.”

Harry smiled at his boyfriend with low eyes, unable to think of anything better than his tipsy boyfriend, face deep with his dimples, laughing while hugging an empty wine glass.

-

“I like them,” Louis laid his head on the window. “Lots.”

Harry smiled at the road, driving to Louis’. “Yeah? Leah likes you too, Angie as well.”

Louis rubbed his cheeks, “I smiled so much.” He rolled his head, looking at Harry, “I’m still a little drunk.”

“You could have denied the wine.”

“Oh, no. It was a test,” Louis snorted a laugh. He lifted a finger, “and I passed.”

Harry put his warm hand on Louis’ small knee, “baby, there was no test.”

“There is always a test.” Harry chuckled warmly. “My parents,” Louis thought for a moment, “are very nice. Are your parents nice?”

“Have we spoke of my parents before?’

“A little,” Louis mumbled, running his fingers against the window, “you told me they speak English.”

Harry chuckled, “I know you remember everything. I told you they were very nice.”

Louis bit his lip, looking out the window, “tell me more then.”

“My parents,” Harry started, “have been married for fifty years, which I told you before.” Louis pouted and Harry would have kissed him if he wasn’t driving. “They met in Positano. They were childhood friends and ‘high school sweethearts’. My mother is my best friend despite being extremely nosey. She wants to know everything about you.”

“And you tell her.”

“I tell her everything. I have told her everything I can think of about you. She called me the other night, drunk, asking about you.” Harry glanced at Louis, who stared at him with big glossy eyes. “My father and I do not speak as much as my mother and I, but we have a very good relationship. He acts as a sponge for my mother. She becomes,” He considered his words, “very pushy?”

“Mmhm.”

“When she wants to know things. My family has very little boundaries.”

“I noticed,” Louis smiled, “When Leah was talking to us about the ‘coglion-e’ that cut her off when she was driving.” He grinned, “Angie didn’t even flinch.” _(prick)_

Harry laughed, “I really love when you speak Italian. It is like the finest music to my ears.”

“Harry,” Louis laughed until his cheeks were pink again. He smacked his boyfriend’s arm, “stop! You’re such a cutie, baby.” He cupped his hands together tightly, “makin’ me blush.”

Harry smirked, blowing Louis a kiss. “Beautiful.” He turned into Louis’ apartment, “it is very normal to have children involved in conversations. I’ve noticed here, children are never apart of the conversation. The parents often give them an electronic or make them sit at a different table.”

“Yeah,” Louis grabbed his bag between his feet, “a child’s place and such.” He climbed out of the car with a huff, “I am so full.” Louis stretched, giggling when Harry came around the car, wrapping his large hands around Louis’ stomach. Louis leaned into him, kissing his boyfriend, “mm, love you.”

Harry kissed Louis back, then his cheek, “love you…” He stroked Louis’ sides, underneath his shirt, “for once your stomach is round.”

Louis laughed, “Hey!”

Harry rubbed his small belly, “have you always been so skinny?”

“No, I was heavier when I was small.”

“You are still small.”

“Hey!” Louis poked Harry’s chest, “I lost a lot of weight when I got older.”

“Because you eat bad.”

“I do,” Louis puckered his lips, “and you are going to change that.”

“I am going to change it.”

“Well,” Louis ran a hand through Harry’s soft hair, “I am asking you to give up smoking so I will eat better. Even though-”

“No, tesoro, no but’s. You will only eat what I feed you.”

Louis gave him a look, “super intense, babe.”

Harry nodded once, “I am.”

Louis huffed, “what if I’m at school and I am starving! What will I do?”

“I will make you snacks.”

“Harry!” Louis threw his head back, laughing. He groaned when Harry kissed his throat, “baby.”

“Perché ti lamenti, angelo?” _(Why are you complaining, angel?)_

Louis moaned softly, turning his neck when Harry started sucking at his skin, “fuck.” He bit his lip, closing his eyes, “I want to learn Italian so bad.”

Harry laughed softly, hand cupping the back of Louis’ head. He kissed Louis’ nose, “if you learn then I will not impress you anymore.”

Louis grinned, “you will always impress me because you can cook, and I can only make rice.”

The chef chuckled, “when I teach you to make bread, you might cry.”

“I will cry because its going to be too complicated to make.”

“Eh, bread can be.”

“I want bread in all my meal preps.”

“No.”

“Aw, come on!”

Harry kissed him, “no.”

-

Louis made a face at the food laid out. He held Coconut to his chest, whispering, “he’s trying to poison me, Coconut. I know it.”

Harry snorted, “I am saving you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Louis sniffed the container, “What is it?”

“A simple pesto pasta with broccoli, chicken and cherry tomatoes.”

“’Pesto pasta’! Mamma Mia!”

“Stop saying that.”

Louis smirked, “people in the movies say it.”

“Papa -”

“Calm down, old man.” Louis opened the next container, “what? It’s the same thing!”

“Yes, you have the same thing twice then something different.”

“What the fuc -freak!” Harry didn’t want to tell Louis how many times he cursed at work. “Why!”

“You said you eat rice every day. What is the difference?”

Louis kissed Coconut hard, letting him down. “Say goodbye to me, kitties. So long!”

Harry laughed, pulling Louis to him, “so fucking dramatic.”

Louis smiled up at him, “swear.”

“Fuck,” Harry growled, “fuck, fuck.”

“I would love if you f -had sex with me.” Louis kissed him, patting Harry’s chest, “but first, you owe yourself four dollars.”

Harry licked his lips, watching Louis walk away, watching all the cats follow. The red string that hung from Louis’ wrist still seemed surreal to him.

“I am putting on dirty dancing.” He sat on the couch, “bring the food!”

“It’s for your meal prep,” Harry chuckled, “you eat it tomorrow.”

“Make me food then.” Louis pouted, “please.”

“I have not looked in your kitchen, but I am sure I will find nothing.”

Louis stood up, hands on his hips, “does this mean we’re going to the store?”

Harry’s brow went up, “the store? I feel like that is a bad idea.”

“I think,” Louis scratched his leg with his foot, “we need to go grocery shopping, baby.”

“I will find something to make.”

“No!” Louis ran to him, “aw! Let’s go.” He hugged Harry, “I honestly don’t want to but there is something I do want you to make me. Something I looked up and is actually Italian -not like garlic bread.”

Harry sighed, happy to have Louis in his arms again, “what is it?”

“I do not remember the name, but I know -I know this, it looks like jelly.”

Harry made a face, “jelly?”

“You sound so cute, baby.” Louis squeezed him, “I love that you are here.”

Harry smiled, patting Louis’ butt softly, “look it up.”

“Yes!” Louis ran to his phone, looking up the food while Harry put away his food in Louis’ mostly empty fridge. “Baby! It’s called pan-a-cot-a.”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He had the cutest boyfriend in the world. He had to have the cutest boyfriend in the world.

“Panna Cotta.”

Louis’ small feet stomped to the kitchen. “Why do you have to say everything with a fucking accent? I said it. I asked. Huh? Why?”

Harry threw his head back, holding his stomach, laughing, “che carino.” _(how cute)_


	10. Gnocchi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and please remember that I don't speak Italian. Thank you :)
> 
> *thank you Sara! Muah !

“Harry,” the hairdresser spoke, grabbing a bag of rice on their way down the aisle. “What’s your favorite food?”

“My favorite food?” Harry thought for a moment, pushing the shopping cart. “I don’t know, tesoro. I don’t think I’ve ever considered it.”

“I love pizza,” Louis spoke, looking around. “Pizza and bread, and rice -love bread so much.” He rubbed his stomach, “nothing should be so good.”

“Bread is very good.” The chef sighed, “but it is not going to help your body like meat and vegetables will.” He smiled at Louis’ eye roll. “You eat so much starch, baby, but you gain no weight. You’re lacking nutrients.”

Louis rubbed his wrist against the top of his pants, “I guess. We’ve already spoke about this, Harry.”

“I know, no need to guess.”

“Ugh,” Louis groaned, holding Harry’s arm while the man looked though the baking aisle.

“I can make you panna cotta at my restaurant. We don’t have to buy the ingredients.”

“You promised me a long time ago that you would teach me how to cook and bake, and all that good stuff, and you still haven’t. Show me how to make,” Louis pinched his fingers together, “panna cotta -accento, accento.”

Harry laughed, rubbing his face. He was tired. He spent as much time with Louis as he possibly could, but he also had to be at the restaurant early in the morning. He had backed up emails to send to Italy. Recipes to make. Harry had to call family, or he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Order a new gelato machine, prepare for Italy -he had a lot to do.

Harry just wanted a cigarette. Not now. He never craved one with Louis. Louis was enough for his lungs, for his mouth and fingers. But when he was at the restaurant, when he just left work -Harry craved one.

His headaches were destroying his sleep. He found himself awake more than asleep, fingers itching to take a walk. He found himself angry at things that normally wouldn’t anger him. He found himself wanting to scratch at his throat.

He never considered himself a weak man, but he felt weak every time his throat itched. He felt weak when he found himself eating when he couldn’t smoke.

But with Louis, nothing. The addiction was replaced with a new one. And the new one was so much more worth it than a cigarette.

“Baby,” Louis squatted low, scratching his ankle. “How do you feel about boxed-cake?”

“Why buy a box when it is so easy to make one?”

“Show me how to bake a cake then.”

“So,” Harry grinned, “which do you want? Pizza, cake -panna cotta? What would you like me to show you today?”

Louis smiled up at him, “I don’t know if I’m going to like the panna cotta, but I know I like chocolate cake.”

“Okay, I do have to wake up very early, so we can make a cake.”

Louis stood, “how long does it take?”

“Which?”

“The _panna cotta_.” Louis laughed, shoulders going up, “I love being Italian.”

Harry laughed, “Dio. Sei divertente. It is very fast to make-” _(You’re funny)_

“Oh?”

“But it takes hours to set.”

“Set?”

“Yes, excuse me,” Harry moved aside when someone came down the aisle. “It is made with gelatin. Gelatin takes a while to stiffen or set.”

“Ah,” Louis nodded, “hm. I love those gelatin cups. They are so good.”

Harry squinted, “the what?”

“You know the little cups that are different colors?” Louis smiled, “I forget you aren’t from here. They’re in this aisle.”

“No,” Harry smiled, cupping Louis’ cheek. “You have honestly -you are so wonderful.” Louis blushed, curling closer to Harry. “So beautiful. So funny and beautiful and sweet. Just a wonder to be around.”

“Baby,” Louis whined softly, looking at the other person in the baking aisle. “You’re being so sweet.” He kissed Harry, hugging him, “you’re so nice. I love you.”

“I love you too, piccolo.” He lifted Louis’ face, kissing him a little softer, “but I have bad news.” Louis pouted. “That is not gelatin. It has it. I will show you gelatin one day.” _(little/baby/little one_ )

“What is it then?”

“Powder, sometimes thin sheets. It is animal bones.”

Louis stepped back, mouth agape, “it’s what!”

-

“Wait!” Louis frowned, “let me.” He took the bowl with shaking hands, pouring the flour and cocoa powder into the wet mixture. “Man, my hand still hurts from mixing.”

“It would have helped if you had a mixer.” Harry set scissors down, letting her rub against his slacks.

“I don’t bake!” Louis stirred the dry ingredients into the chocolate mixture.

“Ah, no. We don’t mix like that.” Louis leaned back against Harry as soon as he stood behind him. The chef took Louis’ small hand in his, folding the batter over itself. “You don’t want to stir it -and you poured too much dry at once.” Louis huffed, focused on the folding technique. “Normally you would fold cakes that contain more air but that doesn’t mean you cannot incorporate extra air into this one. These are not brownies; you want your cake to be light and fluffy.”

Louis nodded, “like when we mixed the butter and sugar.”

“Esattamente, papa. Good job.” Harry kissed the back of his neck, stepping away. “Cut down the middle and fold over. Perfect.” _(exactly)_

Louis looked at him, lips a little parted, cheeks a soft pink. The hairdresser bit his lip, “I’m hard.”

Harry smiled, biting his top lip, “why?”

“I don’t know. You were whispering in my ear…” Louis squeezed his thighs together, “can we -just -can the cake wait?”

“For this?” Harry’s eyes widened a little, “the cake can always wait.” Louis dropped the spoon, quickly wrapping his arms around Harry. He squealed when the chef picked him up, taking him to Louis’ bedroom. “I know today we won’t have sex-”

Louis removed his shirt, “who says?”

Harry laughed, running a warm hand down Louis’ flank, running it over his boyfriend’s erection. “When we do, it will be very special.”

“Is that an Italian thing?”

“No,” Harry laughed, squeezing Louis. He swallowed when Louis arched his back, “I want my turn to touch you.”

Louis pulled his jeans over his dick, groaning, “you can do whatever you want, baby.” He gasped softly, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

Harry brought Louis’ hand to his lips, “thank you, piccolo. That means a lot to me. Okay?”

Louis nodded, eyes low, lips wet, “okay. Do you trust me?”

“Cento per cento.” Harry stood up, going to turn off Louis’ lights. He turned on the small string lights that lit up the bedroom. His favorite lights. He looked around, still surprised when he saw Louis’ living room vs his bedroom. The difference in aesthetic. _(100%)_

“Oh no.” Harry picked up Marco when the cat jumped on the bed, “I am busy with your father.” He set Marco outside, closing the door.

Harry’s knees went weak when he turned around. Louis was on his stomach, face pressed to his pillow. His petite hips were moving in very small circles, ones that Harry almost didn’t notice. His round butt was on display, feet kicking back and forth softly.

The way he was looking at Harry though, his gaze was so fond.

“Baby,” Harry walked over, taking off the first button of his shirt, “you look beautiful.”

Louis made a small noise, hips coming off the bed when Harry touched the soft skin of his ass. He brought his lips to it, biting gently. Harry stroked the back of Louis’ thighs, mumbling in Italian, shocked by how perfect his skin was. He rubbed down to the red patches on Louis’ legs and ankle, rubbing them with his calloused hands.

Louis exhaled into his pillow, “feels good…”

Harry smiled, bending Louis’ leg to kiss the marks, rub the tip of his nose against the reddened skin. He ran his hands back up Louis’ thighs to where his butt met thigh. He bit his lip, spreading the small cheeks apart, groaning. “So small, baby.”

“Fuck,” Louis groaned, “who says we can’t have sex?”

Harry chuckled low, dick hard in his slacks. He pressed his finger to the small opening, rubbing down. “I say.”

Louis pressed his face further into the bed, “fuck. You could -we could.”

Harry let the mounds fall back together, kissing up Louis’ back to his shoulder. “Soon.” He rolled his boyfriend onto his back, rubbing his flat stomach. He went up Louis’ collar bones, down to his bellybutton. He smiled at the flat patch of hair above Louis’ length. He ran his fingers over it, tracing what once was a heart, but now was a star. “This seems difficult.”

“It was.” Louis grabbed Harry’s hand, bringing it to his wrist. Harry stroked the rough red skin with his thumb. “I like when you touch it,” Louis pouted, eyes sad. “It makes me feel like you really don’t hate it.”

“Because I don’t.” Harry leaned down, licking across the skin. He kissed it, rubbing his lips on it. Then he kissed Louis, holding his face in both hands, licking into his boyfriend’s mouth. “Mm, I don’t care.”

Louis sighed into the wet kiss, hands in Harry’s hair. “I love you baby.”

“I love you.” Harry kissed his nose, spiting into his hand before grabbing Louis’ cock.

“That was so hot,” Louis inhaled, rocking up into Harry’ hand. “Oh my God.”

Harry put a hand on Louis’ forehead, pushing his hair back, while he stroked him with his other hand. He kissed his boyfriend sloppily, biting Louis’ red lips. “I love your mouth so much, papa.” Louis moaned, lips parting wider. It showed his tongue and Harry’s cock twitched, “fuck. You have the prettiest mouth.” Harry took his hand from Louis’ leaking cock, pressing his thumb to his wet tongue. The hairdresser sucked at it immediately, licking across Harry’s whole palm.

Louis’ lashes fluttered, “I want your dick too.”

“Going to kill me…” Harry stood, and Louis followed, “I want you on top of me.”

Louis smiled, hands immediately on Harry’s skin when he undid the last button of his shirt. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to crush you.” Harry dropped his pants, laughing when Louis looked down.

“I love your dick. I knew I was going to but,” Louis kissed Harry’s chest, “come on. The cake’s waiting.”

Harry laughed, laying down first. “Do you want the cake instead?”

“As of right now, they are equally good to me.” Louis climbed on top of his boyfriend, feet on either side of Harry’s head. He grabbed the chef’s cock, stroking it, “yeah. Fuck.” He took Harry down and Harry groaned deep. He wrapped his hands around Louis’ thighs, taking his boyfriend into his mouth.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he did this, but he hadn’t been bad at it. He bobbed his head, pulling Louis’ shaking hips closer, taking him further. He moaned low at the wetness around his cock, hands running up and down Louis’ back just to feel him. He thrust up into Louis’ heat, pulling off to lap at Louis’ hairless balls. He breathed in the clean smell, “Jesus.”

Harry pulled his ass down a little more, trying to get his mouth on Louis’ ass. “Come here.”

Louis’ mouth slid off with a wet pop, “hm?”

“Sit back, baby. -Yes, like that.” Harry stared at the tight rim for a moment before pressing his tongue to it. He kept on hand on Louis’ hip to keep him steady, and the other to jerk his boyfriend off. Harry scratched the hair above Louis’ crotch every few seconds, loving how soft it felt.

He sucked at the small opening with vigor, moaning when Louis pressed back against his face. Harry’s hips trembled when Louis’ blunt nails scratched up his stomach.

“Baby, baby,” Louis moaned, waist going in small circles. “Please -pleas-”

Harry stroked faster; hand slippery from the thin pre-cum leaking from his boyfriend. He dug his fingers into Louis’ side, moaning when Louis screamed. The hole loosened just enough that Harry could get the tip of his tongue inside. His mouth and chin were covered in spit, but it was worth it with how loud Louis was getting.

Louis gasped once, pulling away to fuck into Harry’s hand. He gasped again pressing back to his face, until the whole room was full of gasps and tight-ended screams. Louis pressed back to his tongue one more time before going forward to hump Harry’s hand.

“Ha-Harry -fuck.” Harry stroked faster. “Oh -I’m go-gonna -oh my God. Oh my God!”

Harry’s fist was tight, wanting to bring Louis to a climax. Harry had plenty of strength in his hand.

His old chef would make him whip egg whites or cream by hand when he messed up something. Those five minutes of whipping were some of the most painful.

He had no trouble jerking off his boyfriend.

Louis’ hole fluttered as he came, spilling over Harry’s large fist. The hairdresser squeezed his Harry’s thighs, coughing a moan. “Oh my God,” He shuddered, fucking into Harry’s hand one more time. “Oh…” He whined when Harry squeezed, “baby…”

“Ti ho preso.” Harry helped him fall forward. He stared at his dirty fist, wrapping it around his cock. He stroked himself with Louis’ release before pressing it against his rim. _(I’ve got you)_

“Oh please,” Louis groaned, “put it in -fuck.”

Harry shivered, cock leaking a little. He rubbed himself over the hole again and again, until his hands were choking Louis’ hips. He groaned, spilling over Louis’ lower back and twitching opening. He dropped his head, a piece of sweaty gray hair falling over his forehead.

“That was amazing.”

Louis was still trying to catch his breath. He rolled onto his side, “really?”

Harry smiled, huffing, “I am not going to hurt you for my pleasure.”

Louis snorted, “I was open enough.”

“No. Not from what I saw.”

“Ha-”

“No.” Harry kissed his cheek, lying beside him. “I said no.”

Louis rolled again so he was facing Harry. “Fine, whatever.”

Harry rubbed Louis’ earlobe, “did you enjoy it?”

“Amazing.” Louis’ eyes fell, “I -more than loved it.”

Harry smiled, “so did I.”

Louis smiled, “good.” He sniffled, “Did you just touch my ear with your cum-covered hand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.” Louis giggled, “that’s okay. Now I don’t want to get up.”

“We don’t have to.”

“We have to shower and finish the cake.”

“The cake is not going to come out good.”

“Why?” Louis frowned, “you said it could wait.”

“To have my mouth on you or yours on me, anything can wait.” Louis pursed his lips. “Our cake has baking soda and baking powder and once they meet liquid, they activate. The cake is going to be bad.”

“Well thanks a lot.”

Harry laughed, “I was not hard in the kitchen.”

“You made me hard in the kitchen.” Louis sat up, squirming, “my butt feels so -eh.”

“Eh?”

“Yeah.” Louis held out a hand to the door. “You kicked out Marco.”

“You did not have a problem with it before.” Harry stood, opening the door. The cats flooded the room, jumping on the bed. “Jesus.”

Louis smiled, “I bet they were worried because I was screaming.”

Harry grinned, picking up Knuckles with his clean hand. He set the cat down beside the rest of them, smirking at Louis. “You look like a cat god.”

Louis laughed; hugging Scissors close. He kissed the top of the cat’s head, “I should have been one.”

Harry smiled, nodding absently at Louis in bed, covered in cats and fur. The white blankets that had once been tucked into the bed were messy and probably covered in cum -and now fur. The lights were a beautiful back drop, illuminating Louis.

Harry could wake up to cat fur, covered in cats, covered in cum with messy blankets. He could do it if it meant he got to wake up to Louis. He would, and could, probably do anything so long as he was able to wake with Louis.

-

“-and he drops the second fucking plate. Cazzo! The goddamn plate on the fucking floor!” Louis was quiet while Harry screamed over the phone. “I almost ripped my fucking hair out! I almost fired him. Almost. I swear on my nonna, if this fucking-”

“Baby, baby, calm down,” Louis spoke a little louder. “You sound so angry.”

Harry huffed, hitting the wall with the side of his fist. “Oi! I am angry!” He threw one hand towards the door of his restaurant, “he has been doing this since we opened the fucking building! How do you drop two fucking plates!”

“Baby!” Louis groaned, “Calmo.” Harry could feel a breath of warmth coat his insides. He crouched, leaning against the wall. He rolled up the sleeve of his open chef’s jacket, biting his thumb nail. “I have never heard you like this. You better put so much money into your swear jar, mister. The swear jar isn’t just for show! We cannot swear like that, babe.”

Harry licked his lips, “I am alone.”

“That isn’t the point, baby!” Louis sighed, “it is for our insides. Cursing is nice but we can’t curse so much, or our insides will be disgusting. Take a deep breath and relax. Talk to him! What if something bad happened?”

“Something bad is about to happen…” Harry mumbled.

“You can’t fire him!”

Harry rubbed a hand down his face, pressing the back of his head against the brick wall. “What are you doing?”

“Homework. What am I always doing?”

“Come see me, papa.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut, “I want a cigarette so bad. My head is killing me.”

“My baby.” Harry heard shuffling. “I am on my way.”

“Oi,” Harry stood, “have you eaten? I haven’t even asked what you ate today.”

Louis scoffed, “I had, and I quote; ‘tomato mozzarella with basil and smoked, pulled turkey on a handmade French baguette. -and it was okay.”

“Okay?” Harry wanted to start hitting the wall again, feeling the itching in his fingers come back. “It was okay?”

“I don’t like basil, baby. I took it out and the whole thing tasted like it. And the smoked turkey was weird.”

“Okay?” Harry turned around, shocked, “papa, it’s a fucking sandwich. You said you liked sandwiches!”

“Yes, baby, my baby, I do. I just -like a normal ham and cheese?”

“I offered swiss and ham!”

“I don’t want swiss! I don’t like it!”

“What the -what!” Harry pinched his fingers at one of the chefs that opened the back door. “Cosa vuoi? What do you want?”

Eric pointed a thumb behind him, “We need some extra help on pastry.”

“Just give me a goddamn moment. Fuck.”

“Yes chef.”

“Harry!” Louis gasped, “baby! How can you talk to someone like that? Oh my God! What is wrong with you?”

“I am five minutes away from exploding. Can you come or not? Because if you don’t come, I need a cigarette.” Harry threw his head back, letting the harsh breeze hit his hot cheeks. “My head feels like it’s on fire.”

“I am coming. Calmo.”

Harry took another deep breath, “the day you speak fluent Italian, I think I will faint.”

“I love you,” Louis whispered. “Stay calm. Okay? You sound crazy.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “I love you.”

“I love you, old man. Stop being a grump ass. Look! Now you have me cursing! Gesù Cristo!”

Harry groaned high into the phone when Louis hung up. He squeezed his phone before throwing the back door open. “Fucking hell.” He buttoned his jacket then washed his hands. “Emily!” He dried his hands quickly, looking back at the mess that was the pastry station.

“Yes chef?”

“Where’s Frankie?”

“He just got here, chef, he’s coming on early.”

“Grazie Dio.” Harry held onto the sides of the sink, taking one last deep breath. “Calmo…” He stared at the spotless metal sink, squeezing it tighter. “Calm down.” Harry pressed his lips together, “relax.” He turned on his heel, going straight to the pastry station.

He gave Frankie a quick pat to the shoulder when he slid beside him , “thank you for coming on.”

“Of course, chef.”

-

Louis was giving him a look when Harry walked over. The chef fell into the booth beside his boyfriend, kissing him, “thank you for coming.”

“Well I have been here for two hours.”

Harry frowned, “I’m sorry, amore. It was really bad.”

“Did you yell?”

“I always yell but when everything calmed down, I let them open some very expensive bottles of champagne.” He smiled briefly, “drunks…”

Louis scooted a little further into the booth so he could look at Harry. “I brought Peppermint.”

“No you didn’t,” Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Cats are not-”

“Baby, what was I supposed to do?” Louis’ jaw fell, “you asked me to come, she needs to eat.” Louis looked down at the bag on his lap. Harry could see the small bright white kitten with her infamous pink scar. “She just ate, and now she’s asleep. No one even knows she’s here.”

Harry put his elbows on the table, something his grandmother would have slapped him for, and rubbed his face. He rolled his head onto one hand, staring at Louis’ small set up. His boyfriend had a basket of bread, that looked like it was recent filled. He had his laptop, that played dirty dancing with english subtitles. Louis had three large books with a folder sitting on top and a half-filled glass of water.

“You’re so beautiful, gattino. I know I say it but,” Harry nodded, looking at Louis fondly. “I really love you. You are going to make me a better man, I know it.”

“My God,” Louis covered his mouth, “where is this coming from?” He laughed bashfully, “I love you!” He hugged around Harry’s arm, “are you going to take a break with me?”

“I would never but I think I need to.”

“Here.” Louis held up a headphone, “let’s watch. I’ll rewind it.”

Harry smiled tiredly, sticking the small headphone in his ear. He leaned back, putting an arm around his boyfriend. He glanced down at the small movement in Louis’ lap, shaking his head with a smile.

He closed his eyes when Louis skipped most of the opening credit’s song, smiling when the first words came out in Italian. He’d seen the movie more in a month than he’d seen any other movie in his life.

He mouthed the first few words in Italian, opening his eyes when he felt Louis’ on his. He smiled, “…’e tutti sono innamorati’…” _(…’and everyone is in love’…)_

Louis smiled wide, “you’re so hot. I love it.”

Harry laughed, “thank you, tesoro.” He pressed a kiss to Louis’ temple. “Thank you for coming.”

“I will run to you whenever you need me.” Louis scooted closer, tucking himself under Harry’s arm.

Harry watched this movie multiple times. Whether he watched it from the beginning, middle or towards the end, he knew what was coming next. If he had to watch it ten thousand more times, in every language there was, he would. Because the way Louis’ eyes lit up, as if it was always the first time, was addicting.

Better than punching brick wall and better than a cigarette.

Way better.

-

“What is that?” Harry found himself angry at a pink cup for no reason. “Where did you get that?”

Louis looked at the cup in his hands before kicking off his shoes. “Why?” He swirled the straw around, “do you hate it?”

“I don’t know.” Harry kissed him, welcoming him inside. He took it from Louis’ hands, “yes. I hate it. I have never seen you with this?”

“It’s new.” Louis made a funny face, “it’s a cup.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“My neighbors -friends. Whatever.” Louis took the cup back, grinning, “how do you know it was a gift?”

Harry sighed, “I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

“Because it was a gift to me? Are you jealous?”

“I think so.” Harry scratched his arm, shaking his head, “I don’t know.”

Louis laughed, “honesty is the best policy, baby.” He took off his bag, “I have brought crossword puzzles!”

Harry raised a brow, “I thought you were bringing calendars?”

“Baby,” Louis held up a hand, “don’t underestimate my bag. It holds a lot.” He walked past Harry, into the house. “I love your house!”

Harry smiled, walking behind him, “you can have it.”

“Don’t say that,” Louis turned around. “I will leave you homeless.”

Harry laughed, “I could not live with you?”

“Not yet!” Louis rolled his eyes, putting his bag on the couch. “You’d be homeless for a little, baby, but don’t worry.” He batted his lashes, “I’ll let you sleep over.”

“I would prefer you tell me when you are finally sleeping over? Or when am I?”

“Hm. We’re such busy people.” Louis rubbed is chin, “a successful pair.” He hummed, “it’s easier if you sleep over my house, cause of the cats. But, please,” Louis cupped his hands together, “please let’s have actual sex, for the first time, in your room.”

Harry squinted, “why my room? Your room is beautiful.”

“Your bed is freaking huge, baby. I have never been fu -have had sex in a bed that big.” He put his hands on his hips, “and your room is beautiful too. And,” Louis pouted, “your sheets are softer.”

Harry smiled warmly, “whatever you want. I will do anything you want.”

“You’re too easy, Harry. I’m going to run you down.”

“I’m not worried.” Harry approached him, grabbing Louis’ hips, “because you are too sweet to take advantage of me.”

“You’re so right,” Louis laughed. He hugged Harry, “mm! I missed you!”

Harry kissed his neck, “I missed you too, even though we saw each other yesterday.”

“I wonder if I’ll miss you if we move in together.”

Harry stroked his cheek, “look at those bags under your eyes. They make you look so beautiful.”

“What type of freaking flirting is that, Harry?” Louis was laughing very hard, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Never in my life!-”

Harry kissed his dimples hard, “and those fucking dimples,” he growled. “Prettiest boy in the world.”

Louis kept laughing while Harry kissed at different parts of his face and neck. “Baby!” He threw his head back, “Jesus!” He stepped back, composing himself, “weird, weird man.” He fanned his face, “by the way, it smells amazing. I starved all day for dinner.”

“No you didn’t.” Louis nodded grimly. “You,” Harry lifted a finger, “do not do it again. You have to eat. I made you meals, you eat them.”

Louis frowned deeply, mumbling, “I hate basil.”

“Louis,” Harry warned, “you cannot starve yourself and eat one meal. No. No. No more.”

Louis rubbed his arm, “I hate how you’re talking to me.”

“How am I talking to you?”

“Like I’m a child.” He stepped back, “don’t do that. I don’t have to eat. I’m not starving myself, I just said it wrong. I just saved my appetite.”

“I don’t care, you have to eat. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Louis looked so angry and Harry felt his own anger bubbling to the surface. “Do you hear me?”

“Speak to me like that again and I will break up with you.”

Harry shrugged despite the tightness in his chest and clawing in his throat. “Go ahead then because I am not moving on this subject. You eat what I feed you. I will change things, I will make you anything you want, we can compromise. But you have to eat. If that means you leave me, leave. I will not allow my boyfriend to eat only rice and bread. No. That is fucking ridiculous. No. And,” Harry let his mouth run. “When you break up with me, I will be proud to say that I love you. I will be proud to say I lost you because I wanted good things for you.” He folded his arms, “I hate when you tell me you have eaten rice and hot sauce. It is not food. You are blessed with having access to food, and you eat that? No. No.”

Louis had the deepest pout on his face. He stared at Harry’s feet, hand holding his elbow. Louis swallowed, “I’m going to cry.”

“I don’t want you to cry.”

“I don’t want to cry.”

“Then don’t.” Harry bit his cheek, “I cannot see you cry. Not because you’re upset.”

Louis’ lip wobbled and Harry waited, but no tears came. His boyfriend sat on the couch, crossing his legs, drinking from his new cup. Harry hated it more. He took out his crossword puzzle, and a pen with a cat paw at the end of it.

Harry watched him, found himself confused, but watched as Louis did the crossword. He wanted to reach out and grab him but turned around instead.

-

“I served our plates.”

Louis looked up from his crossword, “I’m sorry I hate basil.” He bit his lip, “I’m sorry I don’t like trying new things. I like rice and hot sauce.” He set his pen down, “I’m mad at you but I know you’re mad at me too. I just don’t want to be mad at you.”

Harry sat beside him, “you can be mad at me. I played soccer when I was younger. I was always angry at my mother when she would clean my scrapes, because no one else’s parents were doing that. But it was only because she loved me. Because she knew that I was bleeding, because she knew that my dirty scratches weren’t going to clean themselves.” He sighed softly, “I am very -what’s the word. Very -forward? I don’t want to control you, but I want you to be healthy and happy. I know you like rice and bread -and hot sauce, but it is not realistic, amore. It’s not.”

Louis frowned again, lip wobbling. “I’m going to cry again.”

“If you want to, go ahead.”

“I don’t cry. I can’t remember the last time I did.” Louis sniffled, no tears. “I will eat better but,” He rubbed his eye, “you can’t talk to me so -mean. You were so aggressive. I don’t like that, baby. I can handle some of it, because it’s you, but not like that. It was forceful. You’re making me choose, you or that. It’s not fair.” He touched Harry’s knee, “we can get angry, we can fight, but that wasn’t a fight. You just sounded mean.”

Harry grabbed Louis’ chin, “I apologize. I will work hard on learning to change my tone.”

“Thank you.” Louis kissed him, “and I will eat whatever you feed me -I’ll try.” He hugged Harry, rubbing his cold nose against the chef’s neck. “I don’t want to break up.”

“You almost broke my heart.”

“I know. I could tell. Your voice was cracking.”

Harry smiled sadly, rubbing Louis’ back, “I didn’t hear.”

“It’s okay.” Louis hugged him a little tighter, “I heard.”

Louis ate five pieces of cheese focaccia before Harry had to gently take it way with a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“Save room for dinner, baby.”

“Okay…”

The softness in the room from the dim lighting in the kitchen, filled with the smell of delicious food, and the wine in their stomach was wonderful. Louis wanted to sit in the kitchen, not ready to sit in the large dining room, at the long table.

“Did I tell you I started saving my corks?”

Harry poured himself more wine, “really?”

“I have four.” Louis smiled sweetly, “I have to hide them cause of the cats, but I’ll have a whole vase like you soon.”

Harry gave Louis a piece of focaccia with his meal just because he loved seeing him happy. He noticed Harry didn’t have a piece, knew that it wasn’t supposed to be with the meal.

It made his smile all the wider.

“The wine is red, but it tastes so good.”

“It is a sparkling red wine,” Harry couldn’t keep his hands off Louis, running his hand up and down the hairdresser’s thigh. “I bought it just for you.”

Louis leaned in to kiss him, touching Harry’s hair, “Love you.”

“Love you.”

They chatted about small nothings. They mostly touched one another, small touches.

“You have a new cat patch on your bag.”

“You noticed?”

“Of course,” Harry kissed Louis’ fingers, “I notice everything.”

Louis giggled very softly, so soft Harry almost didn’t hear it.

Louis’ face when he saw the gnocchi was funny, so Harry laughed. He poked it, smelled it, and cut it in half before trying it. The hairdresser made an even funnier face.

“What is that?”

“Gnocchi.”

“What?”

“Gnocchi.”

“No-key?”

“Close, beautiful. Gnocchi. Elongate your ‘o’ a little.”

“Gno-cchi.”

“Good job, papa,” Harry scooted his barstool closer, ignoring his food. He rubbed his nose on Louis’ cheek as his boyfriend chewed, “love you.”

“I love you.”

Harry eventually did start eating. He had to before he started feeding Louis by his own hand. The way Louis ate all the steak pieces first, then the cherry tomatoes, _then_ the gnocchi was infuriating, but he also had to control himself.

He promised he would try.

“Where do you buy this?”

“You can buy it at the store, but I made them.”

“You made it? I love them. They are so cute.”

Harry grinned, “they are made from potatoes. It is not wonder that you like them.”

Louis smiled, “love starch.”

“I know you do,” Harry lifted his wine to his lips. His wine was different from Louis’, Harry didn’t like sparkling wine. Chianti was his choice despite a white wine going better with his dish. He wanted to subtly change Louis’ opinions, luckily the sparkling red wine was a hit. His boyfriend was halfway through the bottle.

Harry liked that he had to buy two different wines. He liked that when he was at the store, he had to think about Louis, about what he would like. Harry liked shopping for Louis without him knowing.

“You would love Italy. Pasta and bread are everywhere.”

“Hey,” Louis smiled. “A stereotype? I thought you told me when we met Italy wasn’t all pizza, pasta and wine”

“I said close.”

Louis hummed, “I like the potato pasta. Is that how you say potato? Gnocchi.”

“No,” Harry licked his lips, “gnocchi doesn’t have to be made from potato, but it is common. It doesn’t mean anything, but it is said that it comes from nocca-”

“That means grandma!”

Harry smiled, “no, tesoro. That is nonna.”

Louis touched his wrist and Harry’s eyes fell on the redness. Louis had been scratching all dinner. “This is your _nonna’s_ bracelet?”

“La mia bisnonna.”

“Great grandma?”

“Molto bene, amore mio.”

Louis smiled, “What’s that mean?”

“Very good.”

The hairdresser blushed as red as his psoriasis. “Thank you, baby.”

-

“It doesn’t normally have steak, I mean,” Harry circled a word when he found it. “Pasta is very flexible. I just customize most meals to suit your-”

“ _Palette_ ,” Louis finished mockingly. He had his feet tucked under Harry’s thigh, new pink cup between his thighs. The cup that once had water, now had wine. His knees were pulled up, crossword puzzle against them, “I loved it.”

“Are you just saying that?” Harry circled another word, clicking the cat pen in his hand. “You can be honest.”

“Do I lie to you?”

“No.”

“Then,” Louis circled another word, “thank you for doing crosswords with me. I love them.”

“They do pass the time.” Harry glanced at the TV that played Dirty Dancing. He watched it for a little, before looking back to his crossword. “Do you want to go dancing one day?”

“Yes,” Louis wiggled his toes. “I want to because I don’t know how but you do.” He winked at Harry, “Mr. Stereotype.”

Harry chuckled softly, “Okay. We will go dancing.”

“What kind of dancing?”

“Dirty dancing.”

“Oh, shut up, old man.” Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry caught a glimpse of his tongue. “What kind of dances do they do in Italy?”

“Tarantella is famous but people just dance. All kinds of music and dancing. There is not much to it. It just depends on where you are from.”

“You,” Louis circled a word, crossing it off. “Are from Positano.”

“Yes, you said that beautifully.”

“I practice. I have to know where my baby is from.” Louis looked at the TV when it caught his attention. “What’s your favorite thing to do there?”

“I have done many things since I was a child. There was a long brick bridge I would run by every morning. I loved it. It was empty during that time, because it was so early. The breeze from the ocean feels wonderful.” Harry looked at him, “and what about you? Tell me what you liked to do in Michigan.”

“Um, not much. I am probably the boring-est person.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, really. I don’t say it in a bad way. I just never did much.” Louis smiled, “my parents were boring, and I’ve stayed here my whole life. I want to travel. I would kill to go to Lake Lure.”

“Where the stairs are.”

“Yeah but now I want to go to Italy!” Louis threw his hand up, “if I don’t do well in school, it’s over.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry winked at him, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you see Lake Lure and Italy.”

Louis stopped smiling, “I’m not with you for that.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t expect anything, not a dime. Nothing, Harry.”

Harry nodded, rolling the cat pen between his fingers. “I know.”

Louis nodded seriously, “okay.” He wiggled his feet against Harry’s thigh again, “I got you too. I’ll take care of you.”

“I know you will, baby. I have no doubts.”

Louis smiled softly to himself, looking back at the TV. “When do you leave me?”

“Next month.”

“It’s almost next month.”

“I know.” Harry closed his book, sticking the pen in between the pages. “Tell me I won’t come back single.”

Louis giggled, covering his mouth, “you won’t come back single.” He sighed, “just don’t want you to leave...”

“I know.” He touched Louis’ knee, shaking it softly, “I’m going to leave you as much food as I can, and leave you some simple recipes. You can go to the restaurant and I’ll make _sure_ you do not spend a dime.” Louis looked at him. “I’m leaving you the keys to my house too, okay?” Louis sucked in a breath, swallowing it. “You come here when ever you miss me. You come here to eat all the grissini you want.” Louis put his hand over Harry’s. “I promise I’ll bring something back, okay?”

Louis nodded silently.

“You can send me any recipes you think of,” Harry smiled weakly.

“We can’t talk right? It’s expensive…”

“I’ll worry about any charges. You call and text me when ever you want. Stay on the phone as long as you want us to.” Harry cupped his boyfriend’s cheek, “I’m not going to let something like money stop me from hearing you.”

Louis pressed his nose to Harry’s cheek, “ti amo, baby.”

“I love you too, baby.”


	11. Manicotti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis likes food some days, and some days he doesn't.  
> Harry is an Italian chef that just opened his first restaurant in America.
> 
> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and please remember that I don't speak Italian. Thank you :)

One of Harry’s favorite things to make was bread.

Learning to make bread was where most of his patience was learned.

When he was ten his great grandmother slapped him on the back of the head with a spoon for sticking his finger inside her rising dough.

_“Non toccare!” (Don’t touch!)_

_“Si Nana.”_

_“Vuoi aiutarmi?” (Do you want to help me?)_

_“Si Nana.”_

_“Hm. Prenda una sedia.” (grab a chair)_

Harry recalled plenty of slaps to the back of the head, some to his hands. But, even more than that, he remembered his bisnonna’s soft but firm voice guiding him around the kitchen. Telling him to grab bowls from low cabinets. To use her dining chairs to grab bread cloths from up high.

Harry remembered her old frail hands working the dough over and over again.

The smell of flour coated her kitchen, the smell of bread drowned Harry’s memories.

She had a small dog that Harry chased around. She didn’t appreciate him running in her kitchen so he would often get smacked with anything she saw fit. The kitchen was her kingdom and Harry knew to look there if he needed her. She sat there often, watching Italian television on the small TV on her kitchen counter. She was sometimes reading magazines while she waited for her timers to go off.

But always, always, there was something cooking.

The first bread he ever made was soda bread.

It was -different, but his nana loved it. He remembered almost crying when she hugged him, kissed both his cheeks. She pinched his arm softly, leaning in close; _“_ _sono fiero di te_ _, topolino.” (I’m proud of you, little mouse)_

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

He let the sounds of the pre-lunch rush fade out of his ears. Harry worked the dough slowly, folding it over itself again and again. He pinched flour between his fingers, throwing it across the smooth dough before beginning to knead again.

Bread was important in Italy.

Harry never questioned why they had bread with every meal. He never wondered why bread was always the first thing to touch the table. He never wondered if anyone else ate as much bread at they did. It felt normal.

Bread was the foundation of his home and his grandparents’ home, his aunts’, and uncles’.

They had three machines that were more than capable of doing his job. But as his grandmother used to tell him often; _nothing tastes better than food made by hand_. Nothing will ever compare to food made with love and care. Food that has human touch.

When Harry taught classes, he always encouraged students to use the dough hooks, but reminded them that they would love their bread more if they kneaded it by hand.

“Excuse me, chef.” Harry lifted his head, forming a ball with the dough. He tucked it under itself so that the ball was pulled taunt.

“Hm?”

Drey rubbed his hands together, looking very nervous. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

Harry stood up straight, setting his dough ball beside the rest, and covered them with a clean towel. He tilted his head towards the sink, asking Drey to follow him.

“What’s wrong?” Harry scrubbed the flour from under his nails, and between his fingers. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Drey swallowed. “I love what I do, really.” Harry nodded. “I was just -I was talking to Frankie and he was showing me how he stuffed the cannoli’s and stuff…” Harry nodded again, squinting a little. “I was just wondering if there was, anyway, I could maybe watch the pastry people. Maybe learn something.”

Harry’s smile pulled up on one side. “If you’re going to watch them then you need to know their names. It is not pastry people; it is pastry chef or pâtissier.”

“Pâtissier,” Drey mumbled.

Harry smiled warmly, “I told you terminology would come later.” He looked around the kitchen, “Angel!”

“Yes chef!”

“Jump on seafood.”

“Yes chef!”

Harry looked back at Drey, “I want you to know that you are doing an amazing job. I have had no complaints from patrons or any of the chefs. I am going to give you a week to experience Pâtissier line. If you like it, I would love to keep you there. You learn quick. If you don’t, I’ll have you back on fish.”

Drey smiled wide, rubbing his neck, “thank you, chef, thank you.”

Harry patted his shoulder, “I know you get nervous, Drey. Don’t be. I am very impressed by your want to learn, and I hope you will be impressed with my will to teach.” He motioned to the kitchen, “I want people to understand that this isn’t just a kitchen, it is your home. It is school, where you learn. Everything in here is available to you. Batti il ferro finché é caldo. Strike while the iron is hot. Take this opportunity, okay?”

Drey nodded seriously, “I am so grateful for this job.”

Harry gave him another smile, “I am grateful to have you.” He stepped back, “Frankie is not here yet. You’re going to work with Jess.” Harry walked back over to his table, lifting the tray of dough balls to put in the proofer.

“Cugino.” Liam patted his back.

“Hey,” Harry smiled at him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

“I am a busy man having to run your restaurant while you are having fun with your ragazzo.” _(boy/boyfriend)_

“Thank you.”

Harry knew the restaurant was important, but Louis was kicking and screaming into first place -without actually kicking or screaming. He wanted to balance their time together. He didn’t want to be the boyfriend that worked so much he couldn’t spend time with his lover. Harry didn’t want to fall into that trap.

He wanted to be there for Louis as much as he could. He wanted him to know that Harry worked hard, loved his work, but that Louis was more than a building full of people. He wanted Louis to know that he came first when worst came to worst.

Did that mean a pay raise for his cousin? Yes.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I missed you.” He quickly pressed a kiss to Liam’s temple, walking past him. “How is Leah?”

“Everyone is good. Angie has invited you for dinner.” Liam folded his arms, “Louis as well. She is cooking.”

“Oh?” Harry’s smile almost spilt his face, “bun. I love her with all my heart.” He sighed, “She is so smart and so beautiful.” The restaurant owner folded his arms, “when is dinner?”

“Tonight at seven, if you can.”

Harry thought for a moment, “I believe so. I will ask Louis if he wants to come.”

“Good, I will finally get to speak with him. Even thank him for doing Angie’s hair.”

Harry sighed softly, “Dio.”

“Oi! I am your favorite cousin and you are trying to hide him from me?”

“Yes.”

“Hmph.” Liam licked his lips, “Are you ready for Italy?”

“Not at all.” 

“No?”

“I’m not ready to leave Louis.” Harry rolled up his sleeves, “we will be okay, we are just in the beginning stage of our relationship. We want to be together all the time” He pulled his phone from his pocket when it buzzed.

“Is it him?”

“Mmhm.” Harry texted Louis back quickly, putting his phone away. “I am going to make sure everyone knows he is allowed to come in, on the house.”

Liam nodded, “I will make sure of it.”

Harry rubbed his neck, “I am tired.”

“Are you leaving early today?”

“No, not today. I have too much to do. I may pass by Louis’ around eight.”

Liam squeezed his arm, “anything you need, okay? Do not stress out too much.”

Harry smiled at his cousin, grateful. “Ti amo.”

-

“Hey,” Harry slid out of his car, “how are you, baby?”

“Good,” Louis hummed. “Doing homework.”

“You ate dinner already?”

“Not yet. I will though! I promise. I ate my meal for lunch.” Louis laughed manically, “you put bread in my little pouch!”

“I did,” Harry grinned, walking towards the building. “I knew it would make you happy.”

“You said no bread.”

“Do not expect it always, papa, just today.”

“Spoiling me because you’re leaving me. Evil.”

Harry smiled, going up the stairs. “Open your door.”

Louis gasped softly, “if you’re actually outside I will freaking scream.”

“Come check.” Harry hung up, chuckling at the stomping feet coming from inside. He peered into the door when Louis opened it slowly.

“Ah!” Louis laughed, jumping into Harry’s arms. “You liar! You said you weren’t coming!”

Harry kissed Louis’ neck, “I had to.” He hummed against his skin, breathing in soap. “You smell so good. I haven’t even showered.”

Louis stepped back, beckoning him inside. He grabbed Coconut when he wandered outside the door. “Hey, mister, back inside.” The student closed the door, cupping his hands together, “my baby.”

Harry grinned at him, kicking off his shoes. He handed Louis the lunch box in his hand. “I brought you something.”

“I honestly have the best boyfriend on the planet.” Louis went straight to his kitchen.

Harry squatted to pet the cats that surrounded him. He picked up Scissors, petting her wrinkly skin, “hey everyone.” He smiled softly when the cat rubbed up against his stubble. He turned, blinking at Louis. “What?”

Louis was watching him closely, eyes glossy, “nothing, just realizing I want to spend my life with you.”

Harry’s cheeks felt hot. He smiled shyly, nodding, “me too.”

The hairdresser smiled wide, “you made me malfatti.”

“I did.”

“Thank you. I have been having weird feelings about food lately.” He frowned, “everything tastes -you know my issue.” Harry nodded understandingly. “I think I’ll enjoy it a lot, I might not eat the chicken.”

“You will, baby.” Harry picked up Knuckles as well, “for me please.”

Louis made a face, scratching at his wrist, “dammit.” He turned around, going back to the kitchen. He came back a moment later, “baby.” His frown deepened, “I really don’t want to eat the chicken.”

“I gave you polenta and bread today, no meat. You need protein.” Harry could feel aggravation bubbling. “Please.”

Louis sucked in his cheeks, taking a deep breath. “Fuck.” He turned back around, and Harry followed letting Knuckles bite at his hand.

“Che cosa?”

Louis stared at the food, unhappy, “I’m just annoyed.”

“Mad at me?”

Louis looked at him, “super fucking mad.”

“You owe yourself a dollar.”

Louis looked away, trying not to smile. “Stop.”

Harry smirked, “eat the fucking food.”

“Stop cursing! We’re better than this!”

Harry set down the cats in his arms, “eat the freaking food.” He tugged Louis by the hand, kissing him gently. He rubbed his nose against his boyfriend’s, “and give me a freaking kiss.” The chef pressed Louis’ cheeks together, “and tell me about your freaking day.”

Louis did smile this time, “ridiculous old man.” He glanced at Harry’s lips, “love your ridiculous old man self. Ridiculously handsome and you smell like work and sweat and cologne -and bread. Ridiculously charming and funny and perfect. With your perfect teeth and hair and nails.” Harry grinned, showing his teeth. Louis’ smile grew, “loser.”

-

Harry watched his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye, smirking over the rim of his wide wine glass.

“What made you want to do that as a profession?”

His cousin had always been very straight forward, just like his wife. It made their relationship work; they always were aligned. Harry appreciated it. He appreciated how calm Louis was even more. He answered questions with ease, smiling while keeping a hand on Harry’s thigh.

Harry made sure to top Louis’ hand with his own, grounding him.

“I type really fast so I thought it would be a good idea. I don’t really know what I want to do, but this seemed interesting, so I went for it.”

“You didn’t prefer doing hair?” Liam sipped his wine, “you are good at it.”

“I love doing hair,” Louis smiled. “But I don’t want to hate it. I want to do something that I won’t end up resenting. I’m also getting tired of it.”

His cousin nodded, “I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Leah sat up, “I heard, from Harry, that you like the movie Dirty Dancing.”

Harry looked at his boyfriend then. The chef grinned wide, watching Louis’ eyes sparkle, feeling his hand twitch. Harry lifted his hand from Louis’, taking a deep breath when Louis lifted both hands.

“Oh my God, have you seen it?”

Leah smiled warmly, brown eyes crinkling, “I have.”

“When was the last time you saw it?”

“Hm,” She closed one eye, cradling her wine, “I do not remember if I am honest. I do remember the concept.”

“God,” Louis sighed, “You all have such beautiful accents. Anyway-” Harry laughed into his hand, stopping when Louis looked at him. His boyfriend pursed his lips, smiling, “shut it, old man.”

Harry hid his laugh in his hand even when Leah and Liam laughed aloud. Harry threw his head back, rubbing a hand down his face, mumbling; _so funny._

“We can watch it right now.”

“Why not.” Leah stood, wiping her tears. “That was very funny. -Angelina!” Footsteps came running moments after. “Baby, vuoi guardare un film?” _(Do you want to watch a movie?)_

“Mm? Che film, mamma?” _(what movie?)_

“It is one for adults, puoi guardare se vuoi.” _(but you can watch it if you want)_

Angie made a face, “no, grazie.”

Leah kissed Angie between her brows. “You can go on and play.”

Louis hummed, “I really love how you include her in things. She had dinner with us -she made us dinner! You asked if she wanted to watch the movie.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ thigh, scooting closer to kiss his boyfriend’s chubby cheek. “You understood,” the chef mumbled.

Louis blushed a deep pink, “I did.”

Harry grinned, pressing his lips to Louis’, mumbling against them; “ _gattino intelligente_ …” _(smart kitten)_

“Okay, love birds,” Liam stood, taking his wine glass. “We will wait for you in the living room.”

Harry smirked at his cousin, winking back at Leah when she winked at him. He looked back at Louis, giving him a loopy smile, “you are wonderful.”

Louis batted his lashes, looking away, “thank you, baby.” He lifted his head, “I really enjoy being here with you and your family. I know that family means a lot to you -and I didn’t just read that family means a lot to Italians.”

Harry chuckled, “that is a very true stereotype, I would say. My family is very important to me.”

Louis nodded, “I can tell. I’m not used to it, if I’m honest. It makes me uncomfortable but in a good way. It feels like my family should have been like this?”

“They were not loving?”

“I am an only child. My parents were loving but in the typical ‘loving’ way. I love you by feeding you and giving you a roof. They were nice. I never got in trouble. I just see a difference.” Louis looked around, “it feels bigger here, the meaning of the word family.”

Harry hummed, rubbing Louis’ thigh. He pulled it away when Louis flinched. “Not now?”

“No,” Louis puckered his lips. “I am so sorry.”

“For what?” Harry scooted back, “I am happy to love and respect you.”

Louis rubbed his leg where Harry had, “damn.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s -not talk while you’re gone.”

Harry squinted, pain hitting his chest. “I -did do something? I’m sorry I touched you when-”

“No, hey,” Louis turned to face him. “Don’t do that. I am not breaking up with you. I said you would have a boyfriend when you get back and you will. I just,” he chewed on his cheek. “I don’t want to know I have you, but you aren’t actually there. I’d rather pretend I don’t have anything.”

Harry swallowed, biting the inside of his lower lip, “I think I want to do whatever you think is best but I am very uncomfortable knowing I could talk to you but I am not.”

Louis swallowed, nodding slowly, “okay.”

Harry squeezed his eyes tight, sitting back, “so?”

“We are very different people.”

Harry felt that sharp pain again. He looked up, eyes burning, “That is true.” He rubbed his face, “Jesus…”

Louis stood up, sitting in his lap. He kissed Harry softly, slowly, kissing down his neck. He nosed at Harry’s collar, breathing in deep. “I love your cologne.”

Harry rubbed the side of Louis’ butt, “don’t leave me alone.”

Louis cupped his boyfriend’s cheek, “I am sorry that I even said it. Really.” Harry pressed his lips together. “It’s not even fair and I need to be less selfish because I want this more than anything. Ignoring things are just easier for me.”

“I understand, that is how I used to do things.”

“If you did that to me, it would break my heart, so I am sorry for even mentioning it.”

“It’s okay.”

Louis shook his head, pressing his nose against Harry’s, “don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

The hairdresser fixed his hair, brushing his mixed gray and brown strands back, “let me trim your hair before you go.”

“Anything.” Harry tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He let Louis place his hair as he pleased, “you can cut it.”

Louis kissed his throat, then his lips, “they are waiting for us.”

“I don’t care.”

Louis hugged him, “good, neither do I.”

-

Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, kissing him tenderly before spraying his head with water. Harry closed his eyes, relaxing when a warm towel was put on his shoulders.

His lips parted as Louis massaged his scalp, kissing behind his ear. Harry leaned back a little further, whispering a soft, “ _so nice_ …”

“Good.”

Louis combed through his hair, continuously kissing at his cheeks and lips and throat. He kissed Harry’s ear, telling him how beautiful he was with his gray hair. How handsome it made him look. He cupped Harry’s cheek, telling him he loved him.

Harry’s eyes flickered when Louis started cutting his hair. He didn’t know what his boyfriend was doing, what kind of trim he was giving him, but it made him excited. He was excited knowing that Louis was doing whatever he wanted to his hair.

His boyfriend’s hands were beautiful, dainty but strong. His nails were always clean. The only imperfection came from his psoriasis, a new patch appeared on his pinky.

Harry would love Louis’ hands covered in red patches or not.

He stayed still as Louis’ scissors clipped, the sound soothing to his ears.

Harry couldn’t stop himself from kissing Louis’ chest when he leaned over him.

The haircut was cut short when Harry bit at his skin.

He loved the cut just as much as he loved the sound Louis made when he picked up him and took him to the couch.

-

The flight from Detroit to Italy was long. It wasn’t just long; it was exhausting traveling through cities with stops in between.

The jet lag killed him.

Harry touched down at eight o’clock at night and was grateful to his uncle for picking him up.

He traveled to Italy about two to three times a year. It always felt so surreal coming back.

He was originally planning to stay a week but extended it because how could he not? He had to see his family and seeing his family took days.

The moment Harry walked into his mother’s home; he flew into his childhood. The home was filled with his family, filled with smells. The chef almost cried after the third hug and pat on the back. He had soft slaps on the cheeks and on his butt asking where he had been, and why he’d been gone so long. Harry ate until his stomach hurt and drank until he was dizzy. He danced until his feet were sore and hugged his mother until she stopped crying.

Everyone asked about Louis, asked to show photos. Photos Harry didn’t have many of.

His aunt pinched him, asking why he wouldn’t bring his fiancé despite Harry repeatedly saying they were not.

He spent the first two nights at his parent’s before going to his apartment for the third night. After getting drunk for several days, Harry went to work. He typed until his fingers hurt, he traveled back and forth between his restaurants. He spoke to different people every day. Harry worked with his chefs, bringing them all to his first restaurant, Aurora, to do their meetings.

They spoke about life, new recipes, the décor, the new machines. Harry spoke until his throat was dry and in pain. He taught them new techniques, purchased new products, and tested them. He stayed at Aurora all day one day, testing out new recipes to teach for the next day.

He rewrote menus and sent them out to print. Rewrote them again and sent more to print. Harry barely slept. He overate. Harry had dinner with his parents and grandmother -and aunts and uncles. He made dinner the night before he was set to go back. The chef put his drunk, crying, mother in bed before falling sleep on the chair beside her.

And during the two weeks Harry was gone, he spoke to Louis once.

Instead, they spoke through voicemails.

To say his heart was in actual pieces was an understatement. Harry would call and Louis wouldn’t answer, Louis would call, and Harry wouldn’t answer. It was a game of tag but none of them were caught. Harry felt angry at first, sure that Louis was doing it on purpose so out of spite he started ignoring Louis’ calls.

Then came the voicemail. His beautiful boyfriend, mumbling into the phone; _‘I miss you, please talk to me. Please, Harry, please call me back.’_

Harry tried calling twenty times, ignoring the charges, and nothing.

He left a voicemail the night prior, telling Louis he was coming home, and the time he would land. He found himself speaking to the phone in Italian, giving as much love as he could through his voice.

The moment Harry stepped off the plane, soreness around his eyes, he felt like he could breathe again.

The moment he saw his short boyfriend, in ripped jeans, untied laces, bright red roses in hand, standing beside his cousin -Harry was no longer angry.

Louis was all his, forever.

He hurried towards them, whistling to catch Liam’s attention. Harry didn’t make it halfway through the terminal. Louis ran at him, letting the flowers flop to the floor as he jumped into his arms. Harry dropped his duffle and suitcase, squeezing Louis tight.

“I missed you. I missed you. Oh my God, you’re back. I missed you so much.” Louis repeated it over and over and Harry squeezed him. He squeezed him tight, breathing in his cologne.

Louis was wearing his cologne.

Louis pulled away; eyes red but with no tears. He shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re saying but I love you too.”

Harry blinked, “I -“ He hadn’t realized he was speaking Italian -speaking at all. He took Louis’ hands in his, kissing them. Kissing every piece of skin he could find. He kissed Louis’ bracelet, pressing it to his forehead. “I missed you too.” He pulled Louis in for a hug again, “what are you doing here?”

Louis rubbed his face against Harry’s chest, “I told Liam that I got a voicemail saying when you were going to come, and he said he knew because he was picking you up.” The hairdresser breathed a big smile, “I had to come.” He bent down quickly to pick up the roses, “here, baby. For you.”

Harry took the roses, swallowing thickly, “oh.” He sniffled, “thank you.”

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” Louis grabbed his face and kissed him hard. “I love you.”

Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around Louis again so that he wouldn’t.

-

“You brought your swear jar?” Louis was helping him unpack. “That is so cute!” His boyfriend shook it, “full.”

Harry smiled, still in awe that he was home -that Louis was there. He sat beside him on the floor, “you brought all your cats?”

“I did, they are all home now.” Louis smiled, “I stayed here for two nights so I had to. I cleaned.”

“I can tell.”

“No, you can’t,” Louis laughed. “Your house was already spotless.”

“I am sure you picked up all the cat hair they left.”

Louis set his boyfriend’s clothes down neatly. He turned to Harry with a big smile and a shrug, “you’re back.”

Harry nodded, “I am.” He hummed softly, “can we talk?”

Louis stopped smiling, “of course.”

“Were you ignoring me?”

Louis looked down, “at first.” He sat back on his heels, “I -after you called me when you landed, I turned my phone off. I’m sorry.”

Harry nodded, “why? I thought we spoke.”

“I know, I felt bad, I’m so sorry.” Louis came closer, “please, I’m so sorry.”

“I feel stupid, Louis.”

“Harry, I swear I had it off for only two days.”

Harry shrugged, “how do I believe that?”

Louis frowned, brows crossing, “baby. I don’t ever want any of our fights or problems to be about trust. I trust you and I understand what I did was wrong, and I swear I was going to apologize. Please. You can trust me. If we disagree on anything, I don’t it want it to be about that. I’m sorry. I felt horrible and I am sorry. I know how this looks, really, but I promise I tried contacting you.”

Harry stared at him, “why did you turn off your phone?”

“I told you. I just wanted to pretend you weren’t gone, Harry.” Louis threw his arms up, “I have something great and I felt like it was leaving and it’s easier to just let it go. I want this, I swear, I want this more than you do. And I know I don’t know how much you want this but God, I have never met someone like you.” Louis groaned, “I want this but every day there is a piece of me that feels like it’s going to leave, and I thought that maybe.” He shrugged, “Maybe if I could let it go, I wouldn’t be so scared all the time but I lost you for a day and I realized how happy you make me and I want this. I sent you so many fucking voicemails and I don’t even know which ones went through. I was so happy when I got yours even though I couldn’t understand a lot of it because you weren’t speaking English.” Louis swallowed, “I felt bad. I felt like because I turned off my phone, I deserved this. I made sure I ate; I went to the restaurant and I tried new things! I did all my homework and I made the recipes you gave me. I wanted to apologize to you from far away. I’m sorry, baby.”

Harry leaned forward, kissing him softly, “thank you.” He kissed Louis’ cheek, “just please don’t do it again without telling me first.”

“I won’t ever do it again.”

Harry cupped the side of Louis’ neck, “are ready to move past this?”

“Please,” Louis sighed. “I feel so bad.”

“I don’t want this relationship to be filled with guilt. We are going to mess up in bigger ways so let’s let this one go.” Harry smiled, “I am so happy to see you. I love my flowers.”

Louis preened, “I’m happy you love them.” He sat up straight, “I made dinner.”

“Did you, gattino?”

“Mmhm. I did.” Louis folded his hand in his lap, “I meal prepped us one of your recipes.”

“Which one?”

“Manicotti.”

Harry’s brow went up, “you made it? Really?”

“I did, it’s in the fridge.”

The chef yawned, “I want to eat it.”

Louis touched his eye, “you are so jetlag. Your eyes look worse than mine.” Louis stood up, “I’ll heat it up so you can sleep. I’ll open my gifts tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait.” Harry shook his head, pulling Louis back down. “Not yet. Parla con me. What have you done? We haven’t talked in two weeks, tesoro.” _(talk to me)_

Louis tilted his head, “you don’t believe me, do you? That I wasn’t ignoring you after?”

“I don’t.” Harry sighed, rubbing his neck, “I don’t but I also know that I missed every call too, so I don’t know. I know that I was mad so I ignored some of your calls.”

Louis licked his lips, “what can I do to make it better?”

“Stay with me tonight…” Harry grabbed Louis’ hand, “please. I want to hold you.”

Louis brought Harry’s hand to his face, “Can I go get Pepper?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay.” Louis smiled softly, “my week was honestly, terrible. I missed you so much. I did buy like five new advent calendars and I went to the store and bought so much food. It wasn’t a healthy coping, I spent so much money for no reason.”

“I’ll make sure to pay for any charges to your phone.”

“No,” Louis shook his head. “I’m not with you for that.”

“I know, you’ve told me this.” Harry pulled Louis into his lap, kissing his neck. “You’re with me because you love me. I was also a student; I know it is expensive and having an extra expense is not necessary.”

Louis turned in Harry’s lap to look at him. “I am broke.”

Harry laughed, crow’s feet showing, “don’t worry.”

Louis kissed him, “I went to your restaurant for breakfast one day. I brought Marco and no one knew.”

“Baby.”

“And I had lots of bread.” Louis smiled, “Liam was so nice to me. He’s really nice. He made sure I was well fed.”

“Good.”

“I pretty much lived here.” The student lifted a hand, “I looked through all your stuff and I am sorry.”

Harry grinned, “I assumed. What did you find?”

“So many little things with no purposes,” Louis grinned back. “I found pictures of Italy and I found so many of your clothes.”

“And my cologne.”

“The best smell in the world and it costs a hundred and fifty bucks per bottle.”

“Mm, but you used it anyway.”

“I had to.” Louis scratched his wrist, showing Harry, “look.”

Harry nodded, “it’s so red. Stop scratching it.”

“I think it’s stress. I’m trying not to. I put cream but it’s not helping at all. I have so many little cuts.” Louis rolled his eyes, “I also don’t moisturize.”

The restaurant owner kissed the bright red skin, coated with dry skin. “We’ll find a solution.”

“Tell me what you did.”

“My mom thought you were coming. She was very disappointed. She loves you so much.” Harry stroked Louis’ inner thigh, running his fingers over the cuts in his jeans. “I made a new menu, I spent so much money.” He huffed, “I was drunk a lot of the time.” Louis giggled making Harry smile. “I worked a lot and spent as much time as I could with family. I didn’t sleep much.”

Louis stroked his face, “I can tell. I don’t have class tomorrow. We can sleep in.”

Harry shrugged, “I should go to work early.”

“Baby, you told me to sleep over. No.” Louis’ jaw set, “no. It’ll be our first sleep over.”

Harry kissed him, “fuck, I missed you.”

Louis laughed softly, “I noticed your jar is full.”

“All my family does is curse.” Harry kissed Louis’ shoulder; “I have an apartment in Positano. I want to take you there. The sun rises right in front of it.” He ran his hands over Louis’ stomach, “I want to see you naked against my sheets with the sun on your skin.”

Louis brushed their noses together, “Take me next time then.”

“And if next time is tomorrow?”

Louis closed his eyes, “then take me.”

-

Harry held the kitten in his arms while he watched Louis walk around his kitchen like he owned it. He had his roses next to him, a cat in his hand, and the most beautiful man in the world walking around his kitchen.

Harry was a simple man.

He may have been jetlagged, bags as dark as Louis’, starving -but he couldn’t be happier.

“Can we mess around tonight?”

Louis looked over his shoulder, smiling, “are you asking?”

“I just did.”

“Why?”

“Because you look so sexy walking around in my kitchen.”

Louis threw his head back, laughing, “baby, we can do whatever you want.” Louis opened the oven, taking the food out with mittens.

“You’ve gained weight.”

Louis removed the gloves, jaw falling a little. “Did I?”

“Yes,” Harry smiled, kissing the top of Peppermint’s head when she nudged him. “It’s beautiful. Have you weighed yourself?”

“I haven’t but I will now.” Louis looked down at himself, “how can you tell?”

“Your thighs and butt.”

“Hey! Is this just a reason for you to look at my ass?”

“Yes.”

Louis stuck out his tongue, “anyway.” He carefully served their plates with a small swing of his hips. He loved seeing confidence in his boyfriend. “I’m going on break from school soon.” Louis set Harry’s plate down, then his own. He took Peppermint, putting her on the ground. “How would you like to take a small vacation with me?”

“Where to?”

“I try to hide it, but I really fuck -fuck -fuck!” Louis growled, “I love Dirty Dancing. I love it so much.”

Harry looked at his food, impressed by the presentation. “I know you love it ‘so much’.”

“This is Manicotti!” Louis motioned to the plates. “It means ‘little sleeve’ because it looks like the ricotta is stuffed in a little sleeve, I think. This one has ground turkey because that’s what you had. It’s not hard to make, but it is time consuming. Buon appetito.”

Harry clapped softly, “thank you, piccolo. That was wonderful. I am very excited for your food.”

“Thank you.” Louis blushed, sucking in his cheeks, “I want to go North Carolina.”

Harry picked up his fork, “we will go then.”

“Harry!” Louis climbed onto the chair, gripping the counter for balance. “Are you serious? In two months?”

“I will have my menu out by then, so I won’t be as stressed to leave.” Harry smiled, turning to face Louis, “you may be surprised to know that I care about people more than I do my restaurant.”

“Honestly, I thought you were going to be a work-a-holic, and you are. But I thought you were going to be bad.”

Harry smirked, “I would like to keep you, not drive you away. I appreciate the respect you give my craft and the amount of time I put into it.”

“Of course, baby. I want to watch you cook a freaking feast! Your ‘focus face’ is so hot. It sucks that we can’t make out while you cook.”

“We can try.”

Louis laughed, shoving him, “eat, chef.”

Harry rolled his eyes playfully, “it looks good. You followed the recipe well. Which others did you make?”

“I made tomato mozzarella without the basil. That one was easy.” Louis twirled his fork, “I tried to make risotto and failed.”

“I didn’t leave you that one.”

“Do you see why I failed? I made a vodka sauce one. I don’t know, I made a lot of pasta and all the meat in your fridge and mine. I also ate all your grissini.”

“I noticed you ate all my filet minion.”

“I don’t know the difference between that and any other meat.”

“It costs a lot of money.”

Louis’ eyes grew, “eat your food, we should stop talking.” Harry chuckled, cutting a bite of food. He took a large bite, chewing questioningly. “Well? Say something!”

“It’s very, very salty.” Harry spit it out into a napkin. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Louis frowned. “Is it?” He took a bite of his food, groaning. He threw his fork across the kitchen, snatching his plate before standing. “Fucking garbage.”

“Hey -hey!” Harry slid off the chair stumbling. “Papa, relax.” He took the plate from Louis, “What was that?” Harry cupped his fat cheeks in both hands, “baby.”

Louis looked like he was going to cry. His bottom lip wobbled, “all my food was too salty. This is all probably water weight!” He threw up his hands, “fucking bullshit. I salted the water! And all the pasta stuck together!” Louis stomped one foot, face still in Harry’s large hands. “Fucking hate cooking.”

Harry tried not to laugh at Louis’ distress. “My love,” He cooed. “I can tell you salted the water. You didn’t have to throw your fork.”

Louis pouted, lip out, “it said that the water should be as salty as the sea.”

Harry smiled warmly, “oh, my love. You should have just followed my recipe. That is the correct saying, it should be salty but there is a limit, papa. Do not be angry at yourself.”

“No,” Louis groaned, “I’m angry at you cause you keep saying you’re going to teach me how to cook and you don’t!”

“Okay, okay. You and me, Sunday. Hm? We close early on Sundays; you will come to my restaurant and we will make two things. Whatever you want.”

“You promise?”

Harry kissed him, unable to look away from Louis bright red lips. “I promise.”

-

“What,” Harry paused, looking over Frankie’s shoulder. “Oh.”

“Hm?” Frankie turned to look over his shoulder with smile, “Hey.”

“Hi.” Harry put his arms behind his back. “You’re doing a crossword puzzle.”

“No, just a word search.”

Harry frowned, “word search?”

“Yeah. You want a page?” Frankie ripped out a fresh one. “Here, it’s supposed to be a stress reliever. I don’t know, I just found it on the train.”

Harry squatted beside him, taking a seat on a milk crate. He took the paper, staring at it for a while. “Crossword.”

“Yeah. You don’t know what it is? You have to-”

“I do. My boyfriend loves these.”

“Here.” The pastry chef ripped a second page. “Give him this one. He’s a nice guy. Came by a lot while you were gone. He really likes bread -and risotto. Patty was having a hell of a time making him risotto.”

Harry rubbed a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile, “He likes starch.”

“You need to feed him like you feed us.” Frankie patted his stomach. “Got me getting real fat.”

Harry smirked, “I try, trust me.”

“I’m not complaining. You make some amazing food, chef.”

Harry dipped his head a little, looking back at the papers. “Louis calls these crossword puzzles. Are they the same?”

“Uh,” Frankie shrugged. “No, their different. Crossword is the one you where you fill in the words.”

Harry nodded, “Ohh.” He smiled, standing, “how funny. I’m going to call him.”

His pastry chef laughed, “good luck.” Frankie stood, cracking his back. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Are you taking the train?”

“Yeah, car hasn’t been running right so I just keep it with Lizzie.”

Harry nodded, “How is she?”

“A pain in my fucking ass but,” He sighed, “I love that girl. She’s stuck by me through everything.”

Harry grabbed his shoulder, squeezing, “I’ve met her once. She keeps you out of trouble, that’s all I care about.”

Frankie put his pen behind his ear, “I’ll bring her by again.”

“You know all food is free for you all and your families. Bring your mom again too.”

Frankie laughed, “yeah, alright.”

“And, if you need a ride or anything, call me.”

Frankie took a deep breath, “thank you, chef.”

Harry gave him one last smile before pulling his phone from his pocket. He slipped through the back door, waving briefly at one of his workers. Harry walked away from the smell of cigarettes before it could call his name.

He hadn’t smoked in about a month and it felt a lot less painful than it had been two weeks ago. He thought, once he arrived in Italy, he would break but no. Luckily no one pushed him either, instead it was pats and ‘good job’.

Unfortunately, he was still human. He still craved like humans craved.

Harry walked to the front of his restaurant, waiting for Louis to answer. He called again when he didn’t, waiting.

“Hello?”

Harry could feel six bones in his neck crack. “Hello.” He took a deep breath, “may I speak to Louis.”

“Oh yeah, of course. One second -Louis!”

Harry took another deep breath, trying not to crush the papers in his hand.

“Hello? Baby?”

“Hello.” Harry licked his lips, walking to the area where Louis usually tried giving cats away. “Where are you, amore?”

“Home. My neighbors came over.”

“Hm.”

“Where are you, baby? It’s so loud.”

“I’ll call you at a better time.”

“No, now is perfect. They just left anyway. What are you doing, baby?” Louis sounded so sweet. “My baby, I miss you.”

“I miss you, gattino.”

It was their first sleepover last night and Harry never slept so good in his life. Having a body, the softest and sweetest body, beside him while he slept was a Godsend.

Having Louis’ naked body on top of his was even better.

Louis didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. He just curled up on Harry’s chest, small leg thrown over Harry’s, and went right to sleep.

When Harry rolled over in the middle of the night, Louis curled up against his back.

It was picture perfect.

In the morning it was raining so he didn’t have the opportunity to see the sun bounce off of Louis’ round ass, but it was fine.

Harry made crepes for breakfast and Louis scarfed down three. Did he pull each of them apart, and eat their insides before eating the outside? Yes. Did Harry almost through a fit? Yes. But, instead, he kept calm, kept his head down so he wouldn’t have to look. Louis laughed at him, even flicked a strawberry on his plate.

It was a wonderful night and an even more wonderful morning.

Harry looked down at the papers in his hand, “I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“You like doing word searches not crossword puzzles. Crossword puzzles are the ones that you have to write in the boxes.”

Louis was silent for a while before he burst out in laughter. “Harry! How in the -who told you that?”

“One of my chef’s. Frankie.”

Louis giggled loud, “that is so funny! I didn’t know that. I mean, I might have but I never really thought about it.”

Harry smiled, “I had to tell you. I also have two pages that he gave me. He said he found a book on the train.”

“Hey! I lost a book on the train!”

Harry chuckled, “oh well.”

“Yeah,” Louis huffed. “guess what.”

“What?”

“I got another cat.”

Harry shook his head, “I am not surprised. Where did you get it?”

“My neighbors -friends, brought it. They found him at the burger place by my house.”

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“Hey!” Louis laughed, “my cats are perfect!” Harry smiled. “He needs surgery on his eyes, I think.”

“Like Marco.”

“Yes! Oh my God, it’s so freaking cute that you remember!”

“Baby, I have seen your cats a million times now. I remember them.”

“Let me be happy.”

Harry bit his lip, “baby, I don’t like that someone answered your phone that wasn’t you.” He continued when Louis didn’t speak. “I am not trying to be strange but, I didn’t like that someone I don’t know answered your phone.”

“I was heating up my lunch and -I’m sorry. I wouldn’t like it either.” Louis hummed, “I understand, baby.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. I,” Harry huffed, “don’t even know why I’m bringing it up. It’s not like I can change it.”

“Because it bothered you. Trust me, I’m not mad and I don’t think it’s weird. I agree with you. We can’t change it, but I can tell you that my neighbors are Niall and Zayn and they are very nice. We hang out sometimes and I have told them about you. I asked Niall to answer. You can meet them if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Okay,” Louis smiled into the phone. “Whenever you want.”

“Thanks.”

“Aw, my poor jealous Harry. I love you, baby. Only you.”

“I know,” Harry leaned on a light pole, smiling to himself. “Only me, okay?”

“Man, no one else can handle me but you. Vice versa. You are all mine, only mine.”

“All yours; head, hands and heart.”


End file.
